Stripped of Will
by Roarax
Summary: An alternate reality where Rachel is bound to Ivy and has difficulties comprehending her feelings for the vampire. Who would have thought antagonistic Ivy would be so fun! Rated M for a reason. Ivy/Rachel femslash
1. A Beginning

**Disclaimer**: I do not own these characters, they and the world they live in, belong to the wonderful Kim Harrison. I just need an outlet for my Ivy/Rachel frustration.

**A/N: Alright, I just want to make something clear. I lo-o-o-ove Ivy Tamwood. I have nothing against the svelte, sexy, and oh-so-edible leather-clad vampire. Nothing she could ever do or say in the books could possibly turn me away from her. This fic is **_**not**_** a way for me to convey my dislike of Ivy's character. It's just an idea that I've had for a while now, and one that I wish to develop. If you don't like the summary, close this window, and don't bother reading the fic. Period.**

"_...Even though I__'m the sacrifice,  
You won't try for me, not now.  
Though I'd die to know you love me,  
I'm all alone.  
Isn't someone missing m—"_

I shut the radio off and sat back in the leather armchair, suddenly depressed. Why would they choose to play _that_ song tonight? Of all the songs? _Why_!? Ivy had left about two hours ago, after we'd gotten into a huge argument about sharing blood. The sides were simple: I wanted to, she didn't. Why the Turn did everything always have to be so damn complicated? All I had ever wanted was to give my best friend what she deserved—proof that someone in this world did care about her. I could have cared less about the searing ecstasy that sharing blood entailed, all I wanted was to make her happy. Well, I mean...it was perhaps a small percentage of the reason...

I didn't even know where Ivy had gone. Probably to some all-vampire club, to try and soak up the most pheromones she could. I snorted aloud at the mere concept of Ivy Tamwood actually trying to enjoy herself. Did I even care where she had gone? Hell no. _Yes._

"Shut up," I muttered softly to myself, sulking quietly. Yes, fine, I did care. A lot. I was genuinely worried about Ivy's well-being, especially when she stormed out on me like she just had. Generally, after walking out of the church with an expression that wasn't exactly the most of friendly, she'd come back home hating herself—yet again—for having done something irrevocable and absolutely inhumane. But she just didn't seem to understand that it was a part of her; etched within her genes to constantly crave the blood that seemed to flow stronger within the people she loved most. And lucky for me, I happened to be one of them.

I hated the fact that she wouldn't share blood with me because she wanted more than blood. I _had_ thought about it. What it would feel like to be with Ivy in the way she wanted us to be. But I just couldn't bring myself to see us more than just friends. And it pained me to have to admit it to myself—a small part of me had always wanted it all to turn out to be denial, so that I could finally give Ivy what she wanted; what she deserved. But the truth was that I really wasn't attracted to Ivy. The random urges that popped into my mind whenever they pleased were because of her vampire status. The power. The dominance. The control.

I shook my head rapidly, as if it would help dissipate the negative images that were forming in my mind. Another thing I hated to admit: Ivy scared the crap out of me. The way she could overpower me so easily had always made me insecure around her, leaving me feeling feeble and vulnerable. I brought my knees to my chin and tried to stifle a sliver of ice that made it's way down my spine, remembering all those times where Ivy had had me pinned somewhere—anywhere. The feeling of absolute helplessness, my life held directly below the sole of her foot. I knew she would never take my life voluntarily, but a small voice in the back of my mind told me that I needed to get _out from under there!_ It was just too easy for Ivy Tamwood to stomp down and end everything once and for all.

I sighed, glancing at the clock. It would be about another two hours or so before Jenks and his kids would wake from their rest. For once, I actually wouldn't have minded little pixies flying all around the church—breaking things, asking to borrow my dish towels to make forts with, braiding my hair, screaming high-pitched enough to make my eyeballs hurt. All things that would commonly make me want to throw them out of the church and breathe, "good riddance." It might have been because I wanted someone to talk to, someone to comfort me, or just someone who could keep my company, but those two hours would never go by fast enough. I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts; alone with the racking guilt that had settled itself inside of me ever since Ivy had bluntly told me of her feelings. She'd do anything for me, that I was certain of. She was ready to give her life, her soul; all within my reach. And she chose to stay with me—to _protect_ me even if to do so she'd have to end her existence with the sliver of humanity that remained within her—in exchange for my friendship. Nothing I could ever do would be enough to repay her for everything she'd done for me.

It was as soon as that last thought flitted through my mind that the front door of the church slammed open. I jerked suddenly at the unexpected resonance, smacking my knee against my chin painfully. I swore quietly to myself while I got up, bottom lip throbbing from the blow. I stood, gripping the side of the table clumsily—I had been sitting so long, it was as if I had forgotten how to walk. When I thought I'd be fine, I let go and looked toward the threshold of the living room...and that's when I saw her.

"Jesus," I said softly, unable to think of any other word to describe what I was seeing.

Her shirt had been torn at the cleavage, held up by her right hand currently curled into a fist. Whoever had done this evidently had in mind to expose her neck, which was now ravaged and bloody. She had stabilized herself on the door frame, seeming incapable of supporting her light weight any other way. I stared, unable to tear my gaze from the horrific sight, as a trail of crimson made it's way from Ivy's neck to disappear in her cleavage—making sure to mark it's path as it passed. Her supporting arm began to quiver, and suddenly she collapsed under her own weight, head smashing painfully against the frame.

"Ivy!"

That was all it took for me to lunge toward her and crouch to her level, grasping her shoulders and hoisting her head up on my lap. She made a soft sound of discomfort as her neck raked the side of my leg, but it dissipated to an almost inaudible whimper before Ivy let her eyes close and her breath come out slowly.

"Ivy? Wake up, Ivy." I stroked her hair, removing the few strands that had mingled with the ravaged bits of flesh that hung gruesomely from her neck. "You can't fall asleep on me. Wake up."

I leaned in to check her breathing, and was startled when her eyes shot open. The black of her pupils had completely engulfed the rest of her iris, leaving her eyes looking eerily intriguing. Never had I voluntarily been this close to Ivy when she was in this state, uncontrollable thirst dominating her every thought; her every action. I froze—which probably wasn't the best thing to do at that moment—strangely mesmerized by the way her eyes focused too intently upon my neck. Her lips parted as if she was about to ask me something, but all she did was allow me to get a clear glimpse of her small canines. I shuddered.

"Rachel," the word was barely audible, and yet the sound of it surrounded everything around me, leaving my head spinning. Her eyes dropped to my lips, and I suddenly felt the urge to wet them with the tip of my tongue. My neck throbbed with promises of more, anticipation swirling around in my stomach, even as fear pulsated through my veins. I knew what was going to happen, and I don't know why I couldn't bring myself to move away.

Ivy's hand came up smoothly behind my neck and she pulled me down towards her. I was frozen, incapable of moving away as she drew me closer to her with every breath I took. Her lips locked onto mine with a force that was on the brink of being forceful, and I gasped in surprise. Not exactly what I had been expecting, I had to admit. Unfamiliar arms enveloped my back to pull me closer to what lay beneath me, nails clawing into my back for support. I didn't know what to feel, what to think; my lips did not move against hers as she explored the inside of my mouth with her tongue. At first, it had been hesitant, but her foreign touch became more aggressive as time flew by. My breath hitched audibly as a sharp pain re-emerged from the interior of my bottom lip, throbbing all the way down my jaw line. It was her hoarse, responsive moan that had me pulling away from her, dreading what negative repercussions this would entail. I flung myself back and away from the vampire with such force that I nearly hit the wall. It was just as my elbows hit the ground in impact that the pheromones kicked in and I was forced into a fetal position by the savage ecstasy. It wasn't as pleasant, I had to admit, as when one had a vampire latched onto their neck. This feeling was sitting on the fine line that distinguished pain from pleasure.

I breathed in deeply, trying to relax the muscles that had clenched in response to the pheromones Ivy was throwing out—whether it had been intentional or not was my main problem at the moment. My core throbbed with the illusion of desperate anticipation, and my nails dug into the flesh of my palms as I tried to resist the urge to emit a disgustingly sensual moan. I could fight this, damn it!

It was then that I realized my mistake; nothing I had done intentionally had provoked Ivy's vampire instincts, however I had attempted to soothe her while my bottom lip had been bleeding from my self-served blow to the chin. How stupid could a witch get? I looked up to Ivy, expecting her to be in her usual straight-jacket position or not even there at all. And yet there she was, sitting a few feet away from me with her head cocked eerily to the side; a delicate smile illuminating her dark visage. Her pupils had not yet returned to their initial size; it was almost as if they had expanded further, adding to her creepily beautiful stance. Her hand had dropped it's hold of her shirt, leaving her left breast partially exposed and covered in blood. Ivy wasn't moving, but I could tell that she was planning out her every following move with precise accuracy as we sat there, quietly staring at each other. It wouldn't end like this.

"Ivy, calm down. You don't have to do this."

She didn't speak. She didn't move. All Ivy Tamwood did was sit there, cross-legged a mere five feet away from me, and stare directly into my eyes, as if she could pierce my soul with her very gaze. Her skin so pale she looked like Death itself, blood still trickling down her neck and onto her newly exposed chest. Then, she blinked, and it was as if that was all it took for her body to fully function again.

She said one word: "Why?"

I was taken aback by the nonchalance in her tone, the absence of humanity present in her eyes. This creature before me was not Ivy. And yet I could not harm it. Hence the reason I was feeble, weak.

"I know you're in there, Ivy. We can fight this together." My voice shook, plagued by the fear that had settled itself deep within my core. Then, she did the most sinister, unbelievable, bone-chilling thing imaginable.

She laughed.

She looked right at me, and laughed.

Ivy never laughed.

"I am Ivy!" she said, stretching her arms out to full capacity as if announcing it to the world. I crawled backwards as she came forward, backing away from what would certainly be the end of me. And when she was directly before my face, Ivy leaned in as if to kiss my neck. She continued along to my earlobe and nipped it gently, but not enough to break the skin. The scars on my neck throbbed with an almost painful pleasure, and my fingers trembled when I forced them away from the near-invisible blemishes. A soft sound of content escaped her, and she whispered softly into my ear: "Who else would I be?"

My body sent an unexpected wave of adrenaline surging through my veins at those words and I roughly pushed her off of me, surprised by how unresisting she was being. I felt my back press onto the wall behind me as all Ivy did was laugh again, seemingly mocking my defensive behavior. As if she believed I was stupid to even attempt to fight her off. And I was. But I would.

Ivy leaned back onto the wall opposite to me, her expression evidently indicating that she was sardonically waiting for me to catch my breath, waiting until I was once again fully ready to fight. My teeth ground together as the corners of her lips quirked into a smile at my realization. The frustrating part of this all was that Ivy was right, no matter how little she had said directly. My aura was still ragged and torn from the banshee attack, and I wouldn't be able to tap a line without probably rendering myself unconscious. I was trapped, like a mouse in a corner.

_ The feline straightened herself and rose up off of the floor to stand at full height, taking her time with the knowledge that her prey would not have the agility or opportunity to escape. Her movements were slow, calculated, and cruel. Deliberately, her eyes remained locked upon the meal that was soon to occur, though both she as well as the mouse were well aware of the fact that the feline would be very much capable of focusing regardless of eye contact. No, fear was the predator's main objective. And the mouse had unwillingly, but without doubt, taken the bait._

Ivy sat down in front of me and clasped her hands in her lap, giving the distorted impression she was perfectly harmless. Luckily, I knew otherwise. She twiddled her thumbs for a while—eyes locked upon the absolutely fascinating way her thumbs rotated around one another—as if debating whether or not to reveal what was on her mind. Finally, she took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, folding her hands together.

"I went to see Rynn." The way she said it was almost as if she was ashamed of having to admit it. But then I looked at her neck once more and understood—though Ivy usually cleaned up before coming home from either being a meal or receiving one. Not that I was essentially worried about Ivy's hygiene at the moment.

"Did he attack you?" I tried to sound as calm as I could, but the fact that the hostile vampire was sitting within arm's reach did not ease the tension much.

"He wants me to kill you."

I opened my mouth to say something, but was interrupted by her hasty words.

"Or bind you." Right. As if there was a difference.

"Ivy, you don't have to listen to what he sa—"

"But I _want_ to!" The anger in her words surprised me. "At night, I either fantasize about draining you completely or making you mine. There is no middle ground, and I can't go on living like I don't care!"

Her tone was loud but calculated, as if she was intentionally keeping it low to evade suspicion from the sleeping beings around us. Ivy's words surrounded me, adding to the fear that was already coursing through my veins. All these years I had been pushing and pushing and pushing her, and now it was going to come to bite me in the ass. I had never given her anything but friendship; disgustingly raw in comparison to everything she had given up for me.

"Ivy—"

"You're so beautiful, Rachel." Her hand came up to caress my cheek, though the action was far from being soothing. "Did I ever tell you that? So beautiful..."

I tried to press back away from her, but my back was already crushed painfully against the wall. Blood dripped down from her ravaged neck onto my clothes, though her hand kept stroking my cheek as if nothing was wrong. As if we were the only two beings in the world. She wasn't smiling anymore, any cruel facial display was gone to leave an expression of sorrow. Ivy's big bad vampire instincts had almost completely been stripped away to reveal the rawness of her soul, the desperation of her need. All that still remained to remind me of her irrevocable nature was the blackness of her eyes. The hand caressing my cheek had begun to tremble with delicate care, almost as if she was afraid to break me.

"All I ever wanted was to be a part of your world," moisture filled her eyes as she spoke the words softly, barely a whisper. "But you never let me in. I always stood by you, never leaving your side even in the worst of situations. The only times I couldn't help you was when I was more of a threat than what you were already facing. But I _backed away_." She squeezed her eyes shut at those last words, allowing a single tear to drip down her cheek until it mingled with the coagulated blood at her neck. "Everything I ever did was to protect you. Because I love you."

I leaned forward slightly and parted my lips to speak but Ivy pressed her finger aggressively to my mouth, eyes blazing in fury. "Stop! _I_ am talking, Rachel. Not every fucking thing is about you." She pulled the hand at my mouth back and curled it into a fist, slamming it into the wall beside me and making me jump. "You never loved me! I did everything I could, but you _never_ loved me! All you did was take everything I offered, never even stopping to think that there was anything you could give back. All these years you blissfully trotted along, not caring about anyone but yourself. Piscary, Skimmer, Kisten; they're all gone because of you. You ripped them from my life because it was what was best for you, Rachel. And I'm sick of being your domesticated pet. I want everything _back_."

Ivy's second fist smashed into the wall on the other side of my face as she finished her sentence, her arms forming an inescapable cage around me. The passionate rage in her eyes blazed like fire, burning a hole through my heart. She was right. I had taken everything. Now, all that was left of Ivy Tamwood was an icy, hollow shell; inhuman. And it was my fault.

"I'm sorry." My voice cracked and a lump settled itself in my throat at the thought of Kisten. "I didn't mean to—"

"No," she cut me off carelessly, "of course not. You never mean to do anything, do you, Rachel? Of course not. Well one thing I can say is that I do take responsibility for my actions. What I'm about to do? It's because _I_ want it; Rynn has nothing to do with it, neither does Piscary. This is me. This is Ivy."

One of her hands came around my neck to grab a handful of hair that rested at it's nape, throwing my head off to the side callously. I cried out in pain as the sudden movements and tried to squirm away, but every movement was quickly turned into agony due to the position of her grasp. I took in a harsh breath as her head swiped down in the crevice between my neck and shoulder, tongue caressing one of my old scars. I breathed in short, shallow pants as she massaged the other side of my neck with the tips of her fingers, knowing exactly where to apply pressure for maximum effect. Curling my hands into fists, I tried to block out the searing pleasure that emanated from every place her skin touched mine.

"And this could be you," she continued, her lips brushing against my neck with her every word. "We could have been together with you remaining who you are. But you don't love me, Rachel. This is the only way it can be."

_It doesn't have to be like this, Ivy. We can find another way around this; you don't have to do this. I'll find a way for you to keep your soul if that's what this is all about. Just listen to me, you can fight this. I'll help you, Ivy! _The words were clearly formulated in my mind but whenever I tried to project, all that I'd be able to emit would be unintelligible mumbles and gasps.

It was over.

I was well aware of that inevitable fact as soon as I felt the ecstasy of her fangs slide into my neck. This time—unlike the others—I could very well tell what she was doing. Fear had plagued my ability to move, so I lay there, feeling my aura being savagely ripped away from me. It was not gradual, like the few other times we had attempted sharing blood. No, this time I could feel my blanket of protection being violently torn from my soul, stripped from my body. I felt my eyes fill with tears as it left my body, when I could sense my will trail along behind it.


	2. Development

I woke up sweating profusely and breathing heavily, as if my lungs were trying to swallow the most oxygen possible. My fingers sprawled out on the sheets beside me and clenched, taking in the most of the fabric as possible before slowly releasing it. It was happening again. That deep, almost painful throbbing, pounding within me; crying out for my immediate attention. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath, hoping it would make the sensations dissipate. But all it did was amplify the hammering of my heart, thumping in my every muscle and driving me to the brink of insanity. I wasn't going to ask again. Not ever. The smirk that had plastered itself upon her features the last time I'd asked was too much for me to handle. She liked seeing me like this. Helpless. Vulnerable. Desperate. Begging.

Even though I was well aware of the fact that the vampire laying beside me was not releasing any pheromones, the scars on my neck throbbed with promises of more. As did the ones on my shoulders, and my wrists, and the one near my ribs...and the many on my inner thighs. A shudder rippled through me, as memories of the nights we'd spent together flooded my mind once more. I was not attracted to Ivy Tamwood. I had known that concrete fact ever since moving in with her, all those many years ago. I wasn't sexually attracted to her then, and _this_ was most definitely not sexual attraction. It was a disease. Slowly eating away at my insides until I knelt before the antidote, ready to give away every fiber of my being for a single taste of it.

And that was exactly what she wanted.

My lips curled into a sneer of disgust as I recalled her detailed elaboration of every single thing she planned to do with me, with the knowledge that I couldn't escape her even as she told me so. And after her short monologue had ended, I remember Ivy placing her two delicate hands on my shoulders and pushing me downwards, slowly, until I was kneeling directly before her, her fingers moving to my scalp...

I deliberately pushed away the disgusting images, before they began to swarm my mind. It always begun with one, and then another, until my actions altered according to the image in my mind at that moment. But it wasn't for the sex. The racing anticipation that scoured through my veins every time her voice dropped to a husky octave was never due to the promise of sex. It was the bleeding that made me pant, and plead, and obey. And that exact feeling throbbing within me at this very moment was one I did not wish to carry out. That's what _she_ would want.

I pulled the sheets up to my neck, only now feeling the literal feeling of nakedness. That was one of her new rules, of course. No more pajamas. Not that I'd be needing them either way, seeing as they always used to end up in a crumpled heap beside the bed anyway. A chill took possession of me as I played the various nights through my mind; one by one. I wasn't counting them, they had remained etched within my memory because they simply could not be forgotten. Seventy-three nights. Seventy-three bone-chilling, repugnant nights that would forever remain clear as day within my mind. It had been weeks, months, since the incident had occurred, and yet I still couldn't fully grasp the fact that my roommate—my _best friend _would do something like this to me. I was being used; but then again, it wasn't as if Ivy denied that very evident fact. I turned over to stare at the wall, my back facing the very thing my body ached for.

Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath and tried to forget the rushes of dull pleasure to course through me, promising something far greater than imagination could ever construct. The scars in my neck were those that pulsed the greatest, demanding that I pay attention to them and succumb to temptation. All it would take was a single caress behind me, a single whisper, just a small kiss, and I would be brought to a world without boundaries of any kind, where pleasure and ecstasy were the only elements to surround me. It wasn't as if she would ever tire, the only reasons she ever _stopped_ were because Ivy had enough humanity left within her to keep me alive. Or was that simple restraint due to inhumanity? As it was, I would never even try to stop her. Yes, my soul was bound to her until one of us died or was replaced, but I was still a witch. I still had my every ability, including that of tapping a line to use defensively at my will. But the twisted, disgusted thing was, I wanted it as much as it repelled me. Everything combined was enough to make me retch as well as beg for more.

Moisture filled my eyes, and they closed once more to let the salt water drip down my cheeks and fall to the ground that had once been a place of security and comfort. The cold surface was now a prison, and I was stuck within it's confines. Ivy never let me out of the church unless I was clung to her elbow at a party. And she was invited to a _hell_ of a lot of parties. The other vampires there would generally _ooh_ and_ ahh_ about the fact that I looked so clean for a shadow. Then I would stand there with a neutral expression on my face as Ivy explained—in a detailed elaboration—the steps she used to keep me bleeding and well. From time to time, I was compared to another's shadow; prodded and tossed around as if I were an object. But denying the obvious was irrational at this point; I _was_ an object. And that status wasn't going to change any time soon.

Rationality made me realize that there was no point in sulking about this, that the knowledge that I was utterly miserable would only bring me down further. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, telling myself that I could find a way out of this. There _had_ to be a charm or spell that could reverse a binding, even if it had to be a demon curse. Whatever the consequences were, I was most definitely _not_ staying like this for the rest of my life. Taking in a deep breath, I tried to soothe myself with meaningless words, slowly but surely letting sleep wrap it's cold arms around me. My mind begun swimming in the vast possibilities of my implausible escape, and I suddenly felt safer, enough to relax into the smooth sheets around me.

As I was on the brink of drifting off to sleep, I heard a distant whisper of my name, and immediately, my eyes shot open. Prior to the incident that had changed my life, I would have assumed the sound was my imagination. However I knew that no other being could have made me as aware as I presently was with a simple utterance of my name. I shifted positions to turn around and face Ivy, but was stopped by a hand on my shoulder. Her other hand reached out so that her fingers could trace their way up my bare back, making me shiver. Ivy's fingers coiled around the nape of my neck possessively, and the hand that had been holding my shoulder descended to stroke my hip.

"Rachel." Her whisper was clearer now that I was coherent, and I detected the thick note of ownership her voice held.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but was silenced by her fingernails digging into the flesh of my bare hip. Her body pressed aggressively against mine, brushing away the hair from my neck with the hand that she uncurled from around it's nape. Her head dipped into the crevice between my shoulder and neck, and she traced the lines of my old scars with her lips. As much as I tried to fight it, this felt _so_ _damn good_ I simply couldn't ignore it. A loud moan escaped me, and tension vanished as I sighed into her, irrationally asking her to bleed me. When Ivy would bite me, it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before the revolting incident where she'd bound me to her. Now that I was her shadow, bleeding was that much more intense when it came from her. No other vampire could ever pull the same reactions from me; on the contrary. Any other vampire disgusted me, even more so than Ivy—who was definitely a hard repugnance to beat. Her tongue swiped out to taste the beads of sweat, leaking from my every pore. I needed to ask. It was killing me. Ivy wanted to break me, she wanted me to do this every night; plead for her to bleed me. She didn't need to pose the ritualistic vampire questions, seeing as I belonged to her and therefore she had every right to take this from me without any negative repercussions on her morality. And yet she always waited for me to ask. Making me feel like a vulnerable little witch was where Ivy pleasured herself, when I never would have thought her to be that type of individual all those years ago.

My hands clenched into fists under the sheets as she ran her long fingers all over me, making me tense. Ivy's naked body was pressed firmly to mine, and I could feel her muscles tensing as mine did. My heart thrust against my ribs, and I jerked slightly with each pulse. She could feel it, that I was certain of. The blood pounding through my veins, calling to her. My jaw clenched and I tried to pull away, but I was frozen. Rooted to the very spot I was, chilling fear having taken a firm grasp and utterly unwilling to release me. I could fight this, damn it.

"Rachel, Rachel, Rachel," Ivy drawled my name out, as if sensing the direction of my thoughts. Her simple voice had me quivering in anticipation, almost strong enough to break my will. "When will you ever learn, dear heart? You cannot fight this. You are _mine._"

Her last word was said with such harshness, I feared she would take from me right then and there. But no. Her tongue came out again, savoring my indisputable will to say no. Even if I did refuse, she could take from me. But that theory had never been tested, for I had never rejected her. Deliberately, her tongue traced the lines of my scars, replacing the trajectory her lips had taken. A harsh sound escaped me, and my hand flew back to place itself on her lower back and press her further against me. _What am I doing?_ But the answer to that unuttered statement was clearer than the old, dark blood stains marring the sheets with their repugnance. _The same thing I've done seventy-three times._

Ivy's leg wrapped itself around my waist and she thrust once against me, making a hoarse moan tear it's way up my throat. "Say it."

Her voice was hard, possessive.

"P-please."

She thrust against me once more, a mewl of ruthless contentment escaping her as she rasped, "Again."

"Bite me."

My voice trilled, and I sounded pathetically desperate. Blood pounded in my ears, and a disgustingly delicious feeling settled itself within my core at the promise of her cold fangs inside me. The world around us became a dull, insignificant haze. There was me, and there was Ivy. Nothing else. She writhed against me and stopped as her aggressive hands made their way to my throat. One of her hands went to my chin, forcefully tilting my head back to the point of pain, and despite my every fiber of common sense screaming to refuse, I tried tilting it back more. I had to please Ivy. I had to. If I didn't, she would be unsatisfied. I did not wish for Ivy to be unsatisfied.

As irrational, robotic thoughts plagued my mind with their sole presence, her second hand had curled around my lower neck, savoring the flawless skin that I was proud to call mine. Her hands were hard, aggressive. And yet she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my windpipe—soft enough to be appreciated by one not entranced by flitting pheromones, and yet containing just enough roughness for an audible difference in my breathing to be heard. She retreated slightly, so that I could not feel the touch of her lips against the flesh of my neck and still be able to feel the moistness of her breath. One of my hands flew to her neck and tried to pull her down towards me, but she remained as unmoving as a stone. Ivy had made her decision, and now I would make mine.

"Ivy," her name tumbled from my mouth in little more than a whisper before I even had the time to process my thoughts. "Please, Ivy."

A pleasured sound escaped her as she exhaled through her nostrils, and she rewarded my obedience by lowering her head to plant another soft kiss on the center of my throat. My heard leapt in my chest cavity at the contact, and I tried to press myself against her, but she wouldn't let me. _What?_ Usually, by this time, Ivy would be brusquely pulling on my blood and I'd be whimpering in pleasure, mumbling all kinds of unintelligible things. But there she was, practically laying atop me, and refusing to make any movements.

"Ivy," my voice quavered as I tried to find moderate coherency to properly formulate clear articulations. "B-bite me, please. Ivy. I can't...please."

She groaned again and planted a third kiss on my exposed throat, directly above the windpipe.

"Again," her tone was controlled, and I could see she wanted it as much as I did. It was then that realization hit me; I was being punished. For the every night I simply lay there and let her take me to the ends of ecstasy and back.

"Fu-u-u-uck, Ivy," I took a pause to gasp as she thrust once more against my hip. "Bite me. Please, I...I can't stand it anymore. Please, bite. You have to, Ivy."

As soon as my last word was uttered, her fangs slid smoothly inside me, and I screamed. Though pain was rapidly altered to pleasure, and I felt myself flying. The feeling burst through my limbs and settled itself between my thighs as Ivy pulled on the blood that ran below my unblemished skin. My legs and arms wrapped themselves around her perfect figure, and I pressed more firmly into the vampire as her pull became stronger.

It was as Ivy's tongue swiped across the wound one time before once again slipping her fangs inside me to resume the pull, that I realized what I had been rewarded for. I was broken. She had felt it just as much as I when my last words had slipped from my lips. I gave up, and was giving the remnants of my body and soul to the vampire that would protect me against all evil. There was nothing I could do to stop her, and I was going to live the rest of my life as a mindless puppet. A slave. I was broken. I took in a deep breath as I tried to regain my lucidity—seeing as Ivy's pull kept getting stronger—and closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of everything that was Ivy Tamwood.

_Seventy-four..._ I counted in my head.


	3. The End

**Disclaimer**: I do not own these characters, they and the world they live in, belong to the wonderful Kim Harrison—I am not worthy. I just need an outlet for my Ivy/Rachel frustration.

The woman in the mirror staring back at me was a stranger. Deep, dark circles that vaguely resembled bruises marred the flesh beneath her eyes—those eyes that had once been so piercingly emerald. Eyes usually don't change color, but her irises had faded to an almost grey-like shade. Bizarre, some may have called it. But I knew what it signified; I knew very well. The eyes that usually stared back at me with irrevocable life were now soulless pits, engulfed in darkness. They did not belong to me, nor did I ever want them to. The usual enthusiastic energy that used to fill them with such vigor had been savagely ripped from their cores, leaving this pathetic display of weakness. Her eyes—the ones staring into mine, desperately asking me to come to her aid—had been overturned into a solemn and apathetic shadow.

_Shadow._

The word formed itself within my mind, tainting any other notion to flicker through my head at that time, demanding I pay respect to it; plaguing my very existence with it's mere presence within my thoughts. But the word latched itself upon my cerebral cortex and refused to release it; it was there, and it was not leaving.

_Shadow. Shadow. Shadow._

My palms came up to press almost painfully against my ears, and I blocked out the rational thoughts that managed to push through, telling me that blocking my ears would not help in any way. I didn't care. The word agonizingly thrust against my forehead each time it was repeated, as if it was frantically trying to burst through the front of my skull. I ripped my gaze from the stranger in the mirror, and clutched the side of the counter, attempting to stabilize my shaking figure. The throbbing that begun in my forehead moved to my neck—my scars. I cupped my neck in my hands and pressed against the ecstasy surging through my jugular, almost cutting off my airway. I wanted it to stop. I tried to stop it from manifesting itself, but I couldn't prevent the hasty scream that painfully tore it's way through my throat. I shouldn't have screamed. I would soon regret it.

"Rachel?" Ivy's calm voice made it's way through the church and enveloped me in it's soothing comfort. I tried to fight it off, wanting desperately to feel the delusional pain rather than the relief of reality.

She gracefully strode into the bathroom, where I had fallen into a shivering heap onto the tile floor. I felt the gentle warmth of her hand where it met the bare flesh of my shoulder, and I relaxed visibly. Her hand came up to cup my chin, bringing my face up and my gaze to meet hers. She was smiling. The expression her features held was calming and soft, and yet my entire body screamed that the vampire before me was dangerous, not one whom I could trust with my life in her hands. But I couldn't move. I lay on the cold, hard ground as she slowly stroked my cheek with her thumb, not saying a word. My eyelids flitted shut and I breathed out, loving the feel of her skin against mine as much as it repulsed me.

"Rachel, what happened?" Her voice was filled with genuine worry. It wasn't as if she compared me to a pile of shit; I knew she truly cared about me, even after having done such a thing to my will. She was always careful not to hurt me, but would go against her comforting words as soon as we would enter the bedroom. However, I still had the distinct impression she would not be overly depressed if I were to perish despite the fact that her worry for me would generally fade away when she would demand what she said was rightfully hers. After all, I was just another disposable pawn in her retched game of pleasure.

"I fell," I said softly, trying to move away from the vampire but ending up scooting closer. She wrapped her free hand around my shoulder and brought me closer to the warmth of her figure.

Her hand caressed my hair and she whispered soft, soothing things to me. _It's okay,_ that soft and inescapable voice would say. _I'm here._ Her words surrounded me and made all the pain go away. Agony wasn't replaced with pleasure, but the mere dissipation of pain made me emit a breathy moan. Ivy took it as a sign and hoisted me up into her arms, carrying my quivering figure out of the bathroom.

I let my hands circle her neck as she cradled me in her arms like a baby. Her baby. My cheek nuzzled itself between her breasts, desperately seeking the comfort only Ivy could provide. I could not see her smiling, yet I knew the expression of delight was evident upon her features. My being her shadow did things like that sometimes; I would be able to tell what she was feeling, what she was _doing_, even if I was not physically there. My fingers played with the strands of hair hanging from the nape of her neck, and I allowed my body to snug in closer to the warmth of hers. I sensed her smile grow, just as she sat down on her bed with my trembling body still in her arms. And as much as I wanted her to drop me on the bed and leave the room, I had to admit I did appreciate her staying with me, softly stroking my exposed flesh in aim to soothe me.

"Next time you feel bad, Rachel," she spoke to me tenderly but sternly—as if I was a child that needed to be scolded, "you come see me right away. Understand?"

I nodded before I knew I had, and she smiled approvingly, continuing to stroke my hair and back. I sighed into her form, molding myself to her. She was my rock; my sole reason to be. I could not live without her my by side, and I did not wish to ever have to live that way. _My dearest Ivy._

The robotic thoughts flitted through my wandering mind, demanding I pay respect to their presence. Something inside of me knew that these ideas were not my own, but implanted feelings latched upon my soul—where they had been ever since that dreadful night. But despite this knowledge, another part of me didn't want to fight it. That same part of me wanted to lay back and let the dark thoughts wholly plague my mind; letting the smutty blackness of it all consume me entirely. Because what could I do? Reject her? I hadn't been capable of a simple refusal ever since those many weeks ago. Or was it months? I could not remember—though it seemed irrelevant at this point.

This was who I was, now. The fact that Ivy had _made_ me this way seemed unrelated. I had no right to pin the blame on this magnificent creature; my sole provider. What was done was done. Why combat something that I knew was inescapable? No matter what I did, I would be bound to Ivy until death did us part.

_Death._

The word stopped my roaming thoughts, and I stiffened in Ivy's gentle hold. She squeezed my arm reassuringly. "What's wrong?"

Even if I attempted hiding the inevitable truth from her, she would be capable of sensing it through our unseen bond. Besides the fact that I needed to find a way of phrasing my worries to explain them in her presence, I first needed to understand what big of an action this would be. I loved Ivy. No, I wasn't _in_ love with her. But was a capable of taking her life?

She slipped her fingers under my chin and brought my eyes up to meet hers. "Rachel," her eyes glistened with genuine emotion for my own. "Tell me what's wrong."

I stared into her chocolate gaze—her pupils not the slightest bit dilated—a lump forming in the center of my throat as a reminder of the severity of the utterances to follow. My voice was soft, calculated, and hesitant. "I want to kill you."

Ivy's surprise was not as great as what I would have expected, but the slight widening of her eyes indicated that my words did have some impact upon her. Her lips parted as if she were about to speak, but they immediately pressed together in a thin line before she could say anything. 'Mad' wasn't exactly the correct term to utilize for her facial expression. She didn't seem frustrated. Nor was she irritated. To be honest, I wasn't sure what emotion _was_ plastered upon the vampire's features.

Her voice was softer than mine when she spoke. "I know."

I turned slightly in her arms and she let me up, only to pull me back down beside her on the bed. We both sat for a while, staring into each other's eyes. I was the first to speak.

"What do you mean, you know?" I couldn't help the fact that my voice held a hint of accusation. I had just found out that I might be willing to kill my former best friend, only to free myself from her grasp. I felt horrible; I felt pathetic. The mere concept of killing not only a dear friend of mine, but another living creature repulsed me. And all Ivy could think of saying was 'I know'?

She turned to fully face me, tucking her legs under herself and adjusting her posture accordingly. A warm hand placed itself upon my knee, and despite the fact that it was most definitely not the time for such reactions, a warm feeling settled itself between my legs. I blushed, and she pretended not to notice my unwanted reaction, continuing on with her previous train of thought.

"I never meant to hurt you, Rachel. But I know I did." Her voice struck my core; it was deprived of all silk, of all artificial charm. "It was selfish, it was callous. I just want you to know that whatever happens between us, whatever _has_ happened…I wouldn't go back and change what I did. Never."

I took in a deep breath to protest, but she pressed her index and middle fingers to my lips, silencing me immediately. "Don't say it. I _know_ it was wrong. I don't need you educating me on morals, witch. For years I stood silently by your side, generally keeping my mouth shut; my lips sealed. I hid my emotions from you because I knew you'd never understand them if I showed them to you wholly. And I was right. Every single time I'd show you how I felt, you'd push me away. I just—"

Her sentence was interrupted by a racking sob that tore it's way through her throat. She wasn't crying; more like trying to repress the emotion that crowded her heart and forbade her to feel anything but nothing. I didn't know why I felt the need to cup her cheek with the palm of my hand, whispering that everything was going to be alright. I shouldn't be the one who needed to comfort the ruthless, egotistical vampire. It made no sense, and at the same time I knew exactly what it meant.

"I just wanted—needed—you to be mine. Because I was well aware that once you were physically and emotionally attached to me, you wouldn't push me away. How would you feel, Rachel, if there was something you wanted so desperately. And you _knew_ exactly how to obtain it? You _knew_ for years and would always stop yourself from doing so, because you also knew that it would hurt the person you love most." She paused for a few heartbeats, letting this new information sink into my thick skull. Ivy was not a cruel and pitiless monster—she cared about me probably more than she cared for her own life. I understood her pain. "I love you, Rachel. And I know that you have feelings for me as well—the only reason you deeply feel these emotions for me is because of what I chose to do. For both of us."

I then realized I had altered my position so that I was mirroring hers: knees tucked gently beneath my bottom, hand pressed warmly against her side, and meeting her passionate gaze with my own. Her sincerity sliced through me like a knife, and her every word pierced my heart like a needle. It wasn't painful. But it arose a great comprehension within me: Ivy loved me. I loved Ivy. That's all that there was, and all that there would ever be.

"But…"

That simple utterance to escape her lips stopped my heart. I noticed an instant variation in her facial expression. Her visage somehow darkened noticeably, and I saw a gleam of malevolence flicker in her eyes. Ivy's pupils dilated slightly, but she kept her blood lust checked and they returned to normal in an instant. The hand I held at her side twitched suddenly, as I felt her intentions differ from her previous ones. Which had been the true ones?

"But?" I didn't understand what the problem was.

The hand she had at my side tightened slightly. Possession was evident in the way her other hand came up to grab my opposite side. "But I can't deny the way you make me feel when you writhe beneath me," her hands tightened, pulling me closer. "When you plead,"—_closer_—"when you beg to be bitten,"—_closer_—"when you obey,"—_closer_—"and when you give yourself to me."

Ivy had pulled me close enough for her lips to seize mine, and she wasted no time in entering my mouth with her tongue, wrongfully claiming the territory as hers. Her hands at my sides pulled me down onto the bed with her, and her fingers traced their way up my spine, sending shivers of ice shooting through my core. Our lips parted, leaving her slightly breathless—and leaving me gasping for air. She had always had more endurance than I when it came to such things.

It was then that it hit me. Ivy had been toying with my reason, giving me false hope and tricking me into actually believing that she loved me. The vampire had intentionally made me see genuine emotion in her visage, simply to rip away all trust that had been accumulated within those few precious moments.

"You turn me on so much when you're helpless and weak." Her words were merciless and agonizing, and she stared at me with adoration in her gaze. My head spun, whether it was because of the intensity of the kiss or the confusing way her expression contrasted with her words, "I don't know which situation is hardest for my self-control. Having you belong to me, knowing that you're as strong as a slug and that I can hardly breathe with you beneath my thumb, utterly vulnerable. Or looking back all those months ago, when I needed to hide everything I felt," she grasped the back of my head and pulled me closer with a harshness that made me cry out, whispering throatily into my ear, "But then again, witch, I don't have to control myself in this situation, now do I?"

The fist grasping the hair on the nape of my neck tightened, and the vampire flicked her wrist slightly to send my head off to the side to expose my throat. Ivy used the flat of her entire tongue to send every one of the scars on my neck into play in a single stroke of the dexterous muscle. I emitted a breathy gasp and couldn't stop the hand that had flown to the small of her back in an attempt to stabilize my quivering body.

As soon as I fisted the material of her shirt in the palm of my hand in me desperate effort to stay upright, Ivy emitted what seemed to be half-way between a growl and a hiss. She flung me onto the bed and hastily stood up and away from me. I whimpered quite audibly, allowing one of my hands to snake up and grasp my neck, trying to relive the sensual feeling that had burst through my veins at the touch of her tongue. I curled into a ball on the bedspread, shaking and moaning softly, constantly. I couldn't help it. My nails dug into the flesh of my neck as the vampire intentionally released more pheromones, heightening my pleasure. The sensation rushed to my core and pooled between my legs, making it impossible to ignore. My head throbbed, and my scars pulsated with vigorous life.

A callous hand came up to grab my wrists and pin them above my head and away from my neck. Without my palms to apply pressure to the scars, they went up in flames, scorching a path of pleasure down to my groin. It was almost unbearable, and I managed to open my eyes to see Ivy straddling my hips, smiling at my reactions. I couldn't feel anything but the excruciating ecstasy that surged through my entire body, as the vampire purposely threw more and more pheromones into the bedroom air. My knees came up to smack at her back, my body desperately trying to relieve the sexual tension that was tightening every single muscle in my body.

"My little Rachel," her voice was restrained and hoarse. "Lie still."

I did as I was told—or at least tried to. My figure curled into itself as much as hers would let me, and I took in a deep breath and held it within my lungs, hoping at least the depravation of oxygen would help me calm down. But all it did was allow my body to feel every single beat of my heart reverberate through it. The pace of my pulse was extremely fast, beyond anything I had previously heard, and it the sound of it made me squirm beneath the light weight of the vampire. I let out my breath in a rush of air and tried to create a fetal position with what little action Ivy would let me body perform. It wasn't enough.

Ivy inhaled deeply through her nostrils, and tilted her head back; eyes closed. When I didn't think it possible, my heart sped up it's pace as the woman holding me down began a slow and leisured rotation of her hips. I felt her every movement upon my pelvis, the circular motion she attempted to uphold. Evidently, Ivy didn't have the patience to follow through her wicked plan to drive me to the brink of insanity with her sluggish and unhurried search for physical pleasure, and the measured pace rapidly became hard, uneven thrusts that paralleled the vampire's heightened sexual drive.

A series of wild gasps and moans escaped me as my body mirrored her pleasure, even if it was the last thing I wanted. The ecstatic sensations in my neck did not dissipate, and I understood what Ivy was trying to tell me with her body. The hands above my head indicated that only _she_ would relieve the sexual urges my body depicted—not even I would be allowed the privilege of relieving myself. Ivy wanted me to understand that she could bring me to the ends of the earth using only her tongue and hands; using only the exquisite body that I hated longing for. And she wanted me to comprehend the fact that she would give me those precious moments of pleasure if I obeyed.

I let in, threw my head back against the sheets, and let her take me with the thrusting of her hips. My hands curled into fists above my head as I heard the vampire slowly creep toward her climax. She sucked in a deep breath and quickened her pace above me. The orgasm hit her hard, nearly toppling her off of my body, but she leaned onto my figure, pinning me entirely to the bed. Ivy's chest heaved, and I felt the drum of her heart through her breast, pounding into mine. She lay limp on top of me, though her weight light enough for me to breathe properly.

I nudged her shoulder with my chin, indicating the fact that I had been left unfulfilled. My scars still throbbed with promises of more, and the desire was eating away at my insides. Her head was tucked in the crook of my shoulder, lips slightly brushing my suddenly sensitive skin. I whimpered and she looked up into my eyes, that were begging her to take me. Ivy sighed contently and slid her bottom back so that she was straddling my thighs, her eyes in line with my breasts, and her hands still pinning mine above my head. I writhed beneath her, begging with my body.

"Precious witch," she hissed the designation sometimes utilized when speaking to me in a bedroom context. "You must want to know why I never took all of you, no?"

I clenched my teeth together and arched into her figure, honestly not giving a damn about what she was saying. Pleasure was clouding my thoughts, invading every rational piece of judgment present within my mind. Ivy sensed the one-way direction of my thoughts, and pulled herself up off of me, flicking the pheromones off as if all it required was a switch—totally content with cutting away my pleasure when she had been successfully satisfied.

"No."

The tingles disappeared, and I was left light-headed, trying to make sense of the hard and demanding tone her voice had taken on. Little stars dotted my vision, and I looked around the room as if dazed, my gaze finally landing upon Ivy's features. Her eyes bore directly into my soul.

"Answer me."

I shrugged, indicating that it wasn't really important to me. I hated Ivy. Reviled her existence within my life, and didn't give a damn about her reason to have made me a pathetic heap of flesh, begging for her sexual favors. But then again, that wasn't her question. "I don't understand what you mean."

The vampire actually jerked backwards at the loathing tone of my voice. I had spat the words at her through clenched teeth, and she was well aware that I was not in a peachy mood. Whether it be because of her having left me unsatisfied, or the fact that she had long ago made me actually _want_ to be satisfied. Ivy's expression of surprise rapidly altered into one of pure female amusement, and the devilish smirk that had plastered itself upon her features made it clear it had a very good reason to be present.

"Alright, then. Answer this, instead." Ivy's expression was smug, and her tone was dominant and possessive. "How many vampires would there remain if every one of their shadows wanted them dead?"

My heart skipped a beat. She was right. Shadows were supposed to be apathetic and aloof, walking solemnly behind their masters and remaining quiet until they were told otherwise. They were mindless puppets, broken down and worthless, ready to crumble into a heap before their master's feet at the mere flick of a finger or clap of hands. I looked down at my body: Tense. Enraged. Hands curled into aggressive fists. Teeth clenched. Trembling with fury. I wanted to kill her right here and now—I even tapped a line, filling my chi with the energy kept in the line out back. I would kill her this very instant with every ounce of rage in my body and soul, make her feel the hell she put me through all these weeks, all these months.

But I stopped. I wasn't a shadow. How could I have these urges, this desire to kill the very being I was supposed to worship? I looked up at the vampire standing at the foot of the bed, her eyes glistening with self-contentment. My hands uncurled and shook uncontrollably. I sat up, determined to look directly into her callous gaze. But I couldn't gather the strength to release my jaw from it's tight lock. I spoke to her through my teeth, trying to control my aggression—_knowing_ it would only please her further to have me beneath her thumb, at her mercy because of my emotions.

"What am I?"

She did not hesitate. She did not, either, state the answer matter-of-factly, when it clearly was. Her eyes gazed deep into mine, and her voice was raw with possession. "Mine."

I blinked back the tears burning in my eyes. "It doesn't make any sense."

"I let you keep a part of yourself," _This_, Ivy said matter-of-factly. "I love you, Rachel. No matter how hard it is for you to believe that. I do. And I didn't want to have you when all you were, was a drone in the body of the woman I love. I can touch you, please you, and have _you _respond. Not a shadow, but you. This way, I can have both. You're still in there, and yet you can't refuse me. You can't ever leave me. Never. For the rest of our lives, you'll forever be mine."

"That's not true." I shook my head, trying to convince myself that it was all a lie.

A faint smile lit the luscious form of her lips, as if she'd been hoping I would deny her statement. Her hands ran up and down her hips suggestively, and my gaze was immediately drawn to the sensuous way her fingers trailed over the thin material covering her skin. My heart flipped in my chest when her fingers dipped down between her thighs and lightly over what I knew was her most sensitive spot. Her lips parted to emit a small, breathy gasp—but her eyes never left mine. My hands trembled further, wanting to touch her, now. Wanting desperately to be the one to make her gasp and moan. As soon as the erotic images formed themselves quite clearly in my mind, her fingers ceased their roaming and I was left feeling empty inside. Why had I wanted her to finish what she started?

"Lie down."

My teeth bit into the flesh of my cheeks, drawing blood. She was treating me like a canine, and fully expecting me to respond as such. Revulsion made it's way through my system as a part of me urged my body to comply to her demand. This was a test to prove to me that she was right—that she had always been. I refused to do as she demanded, looking away and biting harder into the insides of my cheeks to distract me from the compelling impulses throbbing inside of me.

"Rachel." She said my name sternly, snapping my eyes up to her. "Lie down."

My breath escaped me in a rush as I let my weight fall back onto the bedspread, sprawling my limbs out to give her full access to my body. Surrender. My head hid beneath my shoulder, my pride withered and in a crumpled heap on the ground before her. I simply couldn't help it. The compelling tone of her voice broke down my capacity to think, leaving only the two words roaming my mind. _Lie. Down._

It was horrible to think that I could never again make my own decisions. That I would never again have a say in what went on in my life, around the church—or in the bedroom. This vulnerability was something I had never experienced before, and yet something I had been through so many times I had lost count. Ivy was simple emphasizing it, right now. She was showing me exactly how helpless I was when it came to her demands, and I hated her for it. She _knew_ what it was doing to me. I could feel her smiling, even with my head tucked protectively in the crook of my shoulder—as if I could hide there forever, never again having to look into the merciless eyes that were purely Ivy Tamwood.

"Look at me."

Immediately, my head returned to it's ordinary position so that my eyes could look into hers. The calm way her voice commanded the actions she desired me to perform made my blood boil. The vampire believed I would give her everything and anything she wished for, but she was wrong. I would find a way to make her cease this degrading and scorching hell. She smiled gently at the rapidity of my response, nodding her head once. Next, I half-expected the vampire to give me a cookie. But no, she wasn't finished.

"Take your pants off."

Her phrases and wording was simple and impossible to miscomprehend—I didn't fight the compulsion, this time. Using movements that some would describe as robotic, I slipped my thumbs into the waist-band of my grey pajama bottoms, sliding them down over my hips and bringing my underwear along with them. Once off, they were carelessly thrown into a heap on the ground beside the bed, and I once again lay motionless on the bedspread, feeling naked and vulnerable. My eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears back as I felt the vampire glide onto the bed, positioning herself at my feet. Ivy's hands slid up my legs to caress my thighs, and my hands once again curled into fists, but I held them back.

"Good girl," her fingers were smooth against my flesh, nails lightly grazing the scars as she passed them. I shuddered, and her movements slowed even more to become gentle and caring. I felt her touch rise from my knees up to my buttocks, and then felt her slip her fingers beneath my bottom to cup the mounds of flesh in her hands possessively. Her voice was hoarse now, having lost all calm as she issued a final command before having her lips and tongue otherwise occupied. "Open."


	4. Alice Morgan

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters; they belong to the wonderful Kim Harrison. I just need an outlet for my Ivy/Rachel frustration.

It was painful to have to sit quietly between Ivy's legs—the vampire's long, piano-playing fingers mingling with my hair—and face my mother sitting across from us. No. Not painful. It was excruciating. Mom's usual wacky features had been reduced to a mask I could not read. Lines seemed to have been etched within her once youthful visage, her sole appearance wrenching my heart into an inhuman shape. Her back was tense, posture rigid and not at all like she generally held herself. Ivy, on the other hand, was impossibly calm, for some reason having invited my mother herself.

Had I been moderately normal, my back would have perfectly matched my mom's posture; but I wasn't. Ivy's gentle fingers in my hair practically had me purring like a kitten, and I couldn't help the constant sighs that escaped me when her nails dug slightly into my scalp. I couldn't exactly understand the dark-haired woman's motives. She evidently wished to pull pleasurable reactions from me, seeing as she kept repeating the movements that made me react with more intensity, but never to the point of it becoming sexual. Pheromones were non-existent within the air; only the thick feeling of discomfort. My head occasionally lolled back to rest perfectly in the crotch of Ivy's jeans, so that she could trail her delicate fingers across my visage before forcefully tilting my head back upright so that I'd once again have to stare directly into my mom's saddening eyes.

I hated the fact that my eyes closed almost immediately as Ivy's fingers began braiding my mass of red hair; tugging slightly, but enough to pull a reaction from me. I nearly let out a frustrated sigh, but refrained from doing so. I opened my eyes shortly after they had involuntarily closed, trying to show mom that this was nothing, and that I could handle it. The stupid vampire _always_ needed to assert her territory utilizing dominance. Why not piss on me while she was at it?

Ivy was the first to break the heavy silence; her tone was calm and collected, not even the slightest bit affected by the awkward cloud flitting freely within the air surrounding us. "Listen, Alice—"

"_Ms. Morgan_, thank-you." Mom wasn't exactly the woman one should speak to when the matter at hand was formalities. I didn't even think she understood the basic meaning of the term. The simple fact that she deemed it necessary to be addressed in a formal manner by Ivy meant something. Something big. Mom's features were slightly aggressive, her fingers slowly but noticeably curling into the arm of the couch.

"We obviously have our differences, Ms. Morgan." Ivy's voice was so soothing my head would have lolled back of its own accord had she not been braiding my hair. Her fingers did not cease their complicated pattern of braiding as she spoke quietly to my mother. "I've already had this conversation with Rachel in a more private scenario, therefore I'll shortly summarize it for you. What I did was for both her as well as myself. In return for staying with me permanently, I've effectively shielded her from any future vampire attacks. You knew as well as I, that that unclaimed scar was nothing but a nuisance. She now has a home, a fluent economy coming in, and a master who will protect her above all else. I don't exactly understand what more a mother would want for her child."

Mom jumped up brusquely, pointing an accusing finger at the vampire sitting above me. "She _isn't_ happy! Don't you see it? How the Turn can you live with yourself knowing that you stripped a young woman of will and value to satisfy your own pathetic existence!? One thing I know about my beautiful Rachel is that she would never choose to be with someone like _you_."

I tried to rise, wanting to hold my mom in my arms and tell her everything was alright, but the hand playing in my hair tightened painfully to prevent me from standing. Mom didn't seem to notice, glaring at Ivy was what seemed to have created her tunnel vision, and though I was well aware of the fact that she knew I was still in the room, she did not pay attention to me. I felt pathetic; basking in the little attention Ivy would give me, occasionally tracing intricate patterns upon my scalp even as she spoke to my mother.

"Ms. Morgan, I invited you to our home so you could see that your daughter is well taken care of. I love Rachel, and unless you can cope with the fact that what was done was irrevocable, I highly suggest you leave."

Just as I thought my mother would turn around, walk out the door, and never return, she lunged toward me and grabbed my shoulders. Her green eyes locked onto mine, and even with Ivy tightening her hold on my hair to try and pull my stare away from my mother's, I held her gaze. I hated the way my face remained an apathetic mask as a single tear slipped down her cheek. She shook me violently, perhaps trying to snap the bond Ivy had forcefully woven between us with sheer willpower. It wasn't working.

"Rachel, honey!" Her voice was broken; I didn't even recognize my own mother. "Please, baby, I don't know what to do. Help me."

My heart squeezed painfully when my throat refused to comply with my mind. I wanted to explain that I'd find a way out of this mess, like I always did, but a frog settled itself within my larynx. My visage remained expressionless, and a racking, choked sob broke from her lips.

_I don't want you here._

The unexpected voice made me jump, and my mom grabbed my biceps, thinking I'd been trying to communicate with her.

_ I. Don't. Want you here._

The words throbbed within me, and my breath hitched. My lips parted, and immediately, I clamped them shut. The compulsion to repeat the words was almost overpowering, and I felt a sliver of fear crawl its way up my spine. Mom's hands slipped from my biceps to grasp my hands and pull them up to her cheeks. She simply held them there for many heartbeats, eyes closed and clutching me to her visage as if her life depended upon it. "I love you."

Her words were spoken softly, and I would have cried if I'd been moderately normal. Ivy was in my mind, I swear it. Her disgustingly sneaky hands crawled and prodded around within my memories, my physical reflexes. The vampire's soothing voice resonated within my mind with callous ease, and my fists clenched to try and block out the compulsion. Suddenly, the sounds ceased abruptly and I was left feeling empty. My vacant stare found my mom's, and her expression made my heart swell. She reluctantly allowed my hands drop to my sides, and I simply let them hit the ground beside me like a rag doll. Her fingers stroked the side of my cheek, but the touch seemed empty, as if it wasn't permitted for me to be touched by another individual but the one I belonged to. Ivy still had her fingers tangled in with my hair, and she tightened them as a wave of compulsion hit me violently.

"I _don't_..." The two choked words escaped me before I could once again clamp my mouth shut.

Mom grabbed my chin and held my gaze to hers. "What, baby? What is it?"

I let my eyes close as Ivy's fingers began a slow massage atop my scalp, and I sighed contently. When my eyes opened again, I saw my mother staring at me, tears welling up in her eyes, silently pleading me to help her through this. My voice was soft, calculated. "I don't want you here."

A slow smile curled my lips as one of Ivy's hands descended to my neck so that her massage could resume on my scars. I didn't even notice when mom's hands dropped from my face to rest in her lap, too consumed by the wonderful feeling Ivy's hands had upon my body. With my shoulders gently resting between the vampire's legs, and my mother crouched but a few feet away from my sitting position, I moaned and let my head droop back so that it was once again nestled in the crotch of Ivy's jeans. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drown in the pure essence of Ivy's presence was the raven-haired woman delicately smiling at my mother, her innocent eyes thickly clouded with taunting sarcasm.

A soft sound escaped me as I felt Ivy's lips upon mine, both of us suckling upon the other's bottom lip due to our position. My arms came up to circle her neck, never wanting her to break the connection we had. My mother completely eluded my thoughts as I arched my back into the air, wanting—_needing_—to feel the vampire atop me. An increasing heat pooled between my legs at the mere thought of her touch, and my throat emitted another moan. The hand caressing my scars shifted to curl possessively around my throat, stroking my windpipe in aim to portray dominance. A soft rumble left my mouth to fill hers and my nails dug aggressively into the flesh of the nape of her neck. I was rewarded when she gently broke the skin beneath my bottom lip with the small, sharp canines that could alone drive me to the brink of insanity. Ivy's hand trailed its way from my throat downwards, passing through the valley between my breasts to caress my proudly muscular abdominals. I heard a choked sob escape my mother, followed by her rising, and shuffling out of the room...but I didn't care. Something within me screamed disgusting things into my mind:

_Inconsiderate bitch!_

_ Fucking whore!_

_ Worthless, pathetic, alone..._

The insulting attacks hit me one after the other, a never-ending string of blows that struck my heart and sunk my pride. Ivy Tamwood was the only being whom I could trust in this wretched world of despair. She was the one who would always stand by me; I didn't care that the voices in my head told me so—it was true nonetheless. Our lips remained locked in place, the vampire stealing my breath without reprimand. Ivy's hands squeezed the nearest flesh available as the voices kept stomping me further into the ground and crushing my soul with her compulsions. She was the first to pull away, and I remained limp in her arms for a few seconds, awaiting my mind's triumphant return to planet Earth.

"You've lost, _Alice_." Her voice was acid, once my head regained coherent thought. My mom was here? I thought she'd left? Mom was still here! "Rachel had the choice, and she clearly depicted her desire for you to leave."

I hadn't had a choice. It had been made for me, and all I'd been was the messenger. Or did I actually want my mother out of the church, out of my life? Nothing made sense anymore, my mind was a surreal haze and I couldn't grasp my lucid surroundings. Ivy's scent and taste still flitted innocently around me, consuming my every rational thought and altering it into inescapable desire. My heart beat wildly in my chest, my lips parting to allow my suddenly small lungs to gulp in as much air as possible. I lifted my head so that I could see my mother, but it felt as if my cranium had been filled to the top with lead, and my neck strained as I tilted my face straight so that I could see her.

Mom's features had been contorted into a hostile expression. She was staring directly at Ivy with that cold glaze covering her eyes like sheen. Her fists were at her sides, clenched, vicious. I'd never seen her like this before, and it broke my heart. Her stance was one I could simply not ignore, and I felt the need to open my mind's eye to look into the ever-after. I gasped at what I saw. Her usually golden aura was now blazing red, leyline magic flowing around her aggressively. Mom's hair whipped around her face freely, somehow never hiding those eerily mesmerizing eyes that never tore away from Ivy's. I was snapped back into reality when a ferocious voice roared within my mind.

_Do NOT let her touch me, Rachel. She wants to hurt me._

No. No one would ever hurt Ivy. Power surged through me and I stood to my full height, effectively shielding Ivy from my mother. My lip curled and my back arched into a feral position, seething fury boiling my blood; my chaotic behaviour being encouraged by the throbbing compulsion to protect my dearest Ivy.

"Rachel..." Mom's features softened, and she held out a hand to me. It trembled. It _should_ be trembling. She wanted to hurt Ivy; Ivy had never done anything to anyone. "Rachel, please. Take my hand and let's go home. I—I'll help you any way I can."

_She's afraid of you._ The soft voice was now stern, possessive. _She wants to kill me and then steal you away...thinks you're weak all by yourself. Show her, dear heart. Show her you can fight by yourself. We're a team, you and me. There's no me without you, and no you without me. If she honestly believes you'll be feeble without me, then you have to stand up to her. You and me, Rachel, forever._

Ivy was right. Mom wanted to tear us apart. She was jealous that I'd finally found happiness.

"No." This time, there was no underline compulsion pushing me to comply to their demands. This was me. Completely. I was making my own decisions; Ivy was simply stating the facts over and over again in my mind. I _was_ coherent, damn it. "_We_ don't want you here, Alice."

My use of her first name made her jerk back, expression hurt.

"Honey—"

"NO!" I threw my hands out, infuriated. Leyline magic shot violently from my fingers to reduce the walls to an ugly black, and it was only then that I realized I'd been holding an insane amount of energy within my chi. As soon as I'd grasped the initial reason I'd been holding it, I reached out to the line to once again wholly fill my body with power. I would protect Ivy with my life if I had to.

Immediately proceeding my outburst, she let the energy leave her. Her expression portrayed despair and defeat. I didn't care.

Ivy's hands came around my waist to pull me on her lap, and I willingly let myself fall onto her. Her arms protectively circled my body and I felt irrefutably safe. I turned my head so that I could meet her lips with my own, feeling that I'd deserved the compensation for having stood up for her. Ivy seemed to agree, seeing as her tongue stroked the tiny pinpricks she'd given me earlier. The reward was more than adequate; despite the size of the healed wound, her saliva upon it still send my mind into _Ivy mode._ She, however, pushed me away slightly and looked up at my mother—while I continued to stare passionately into her eyes, never wanting to tear my gaze away. The vampire uttered one word, and it was enough to send my mother into a pathetic wash of tears.

"Leave."

I turned to my mother, incapable of erasing the smile that had plastered itself upon my features. I don't even know why it was there, but it might have had something to do with the fact that Ivy was smiling as well. My mom's nose was red, tears streaming freely down her aged visage—but I didn't feel anything for her. My brows furrowed, and eyes narrowing, I stared at her vacantly. Something within me knew that she was my mother: the one who had raised me and my older brother, Robbie, with everything she had. But then I stared harder and saw that whoever—_whatever_—she was, she didn't exactly matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but Ivy.

A soft sound of acknowledgement resonated within my mind and I closed my eyes, feeling at peace.


	5. Jenks

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; they belong to the wonderful Kim Harrison. I just need an outlet for my Ivy/Rachel frustration.

**Author's Note:** Mmkay! So...let's make something clear, shall we? I really do love Ivy Tamwood. She is my one and only idol, and I think about her before I go to bed every night, to which I proceed with dreaming about her. I admit to my obsession. I perhaps may have gone overboard with the entire "Evil Ivy" thing in this chapter, and its okay, everyone's entitled to their own opinion. But umm...please don't hate me because of this?

"No!"

The word was savagely ripped from my throat, torn through my lips. Angry tears of despair streamed freely down my lacerated visage, the salt water seeping into my wounds to set them on fire. Ivy's hands tried to reach me through the metal bars I had erected between us, but she retreated with a hiss as her bicep scraped against the material. Leyline magic flowed viciously around the bars, giving off an aggressive color of red, which, despite the current situation, left me feeling curious. Was I the only one who could see the furious hue of my magic? It wasn't exactly as if I was going to ask the ruthless vampire before me if she could identify the color of the energy that kept burning away flesh every time she attempted to claw at me.

I don't even remember the means I'd utilized, but I'd somehow managed to raise the bed frame between the living vampire and myself. The mattress was lying a few feet away from our scene, worn and blood-soaked—just seeing the dark, crimson stains brought back unwanted memories, infuriating my mind even further. My back was pressed against the wall, and the metal was protectively flowing with leyline energy around me, serving as a shield from the vampire. But I hadn't seen it coming. No. Not with Ivy. I never saw anything come until it hit me square in the jaw, entailing a merciless hopelessness that would follow incapacitation. The tears that were living flames, licking at the flesh of my once unblemished visage were not for my fate. Nor were they furious tears directed toward the one being that had savagely stripped my will to live from my very soul. Ivy had taken everything from me, including my heart: ripped directly from the core of my chest. I'd thought it the end; that nothing else that occurred could ever mirror what she'd done to me.

To my family. My mother...

But once again, I'd been wrong. I'd been so wrapped up in my own self-pity that I'd utterly forgotten about everyone else whom I'd held dear. The realization solely lowered my own esteem to a pitiable mass. Worthless. Insignificant. My back pressed further against the wall, even as I violently shook my head from side to side and my eyes closed, a new wash of tears cutting their way down my bleeding cheeks.

"Come_ out_ of there, witch." Ivy once again threatened the mantra that she'd been repeating for the past hour. Or perhaps it had been two. Three? It didn't exactly matter, anyway; time had become irrelevant. Not simply since I'd intentionally trapped myself away from the vampire's aggressive grasp, but ever since those many months ago where I'd been reduced to a conscious puppet, forced to comply to the bidding of a self-centered master. What was the use of counting the seconds as she repeatedly violated me mentally as well as physically? Where was the logic in marking down the days as they passed so excruciatingly slowly? I had no one, nothing to look forward to. There was simply no rational point in counting. Not anymore. Never again.

"No," the word was a choked sob; one that I barely managed to let slip from my lips before breaking down into a pathetic heap against the floor, knees up to my chin and arms around my legs. It would be utterly illogical of me to obey to her wishes. The throbbing compulsion in her tone was enough to make my heart cease beating, and yet I was capable of holding everything back just so that I wouldn't have to leave this prison of protection. Logic, reason and rationality had become my closest friends after Ivy had effectively rendered me to a domesticated animal. They were the only things that kept me going; kept me sane. It was sad, but pure verity: humans and Inderlanders alike were bound by vampires—be they living or undead—all the time. Why should I be sulking, wallowing in my own pathetic self-pity when there were hundreds, thousands, perhaps even millions, of other individuals in the exact same position as myself? Rationality kept my life stitched together, logic nourished my desperate, frantic mind with implausible hope of escape, and reason...Reason was the one aspect that utterly eluded me. Simply because there _was_ none. No motive. No explanation. No cause. And yet I clutched reason to me as if it were the very air I breathed; because somehow, something within me kept screaming that _reason_ was simply hiding. That one day it would come out, and everything could make sense once more. Of course when that day came, I'd probably be flabbergasted at first, but then I'd see _cause_, _motivation_, and everything would fall into place.

_And then they lived happily ever after..._

The thick paradox of my words was almost physically painful, even as I recited them over and over and over within my throbbing mind. _Happily ever after_. Just like in the movies, like the books, the dreams. Even as my sight was almost entirely consumed by the antagonistic hue of my self-protection, flowing violently around the structure I had erected to keep me from the prowling creature—black eyes glistening with feral hostility, canines wet with saliva, fingers curled into aggressive fists—I let my mind wander to the possibility of escape. Of a happy ending...

And yet she would not even grant me these few precious moments of delusional peace. The heavy hiss of my name forcefully brought my wandering mind back into a harsh reality: one where I was trapped, and she was in control. My once emerald eyes slowly begun to search for her chocolate ones. I couldn't help it. Despite the fact that I was well aware that I would find absolutely no comfort in the black abyss of her sockets, I still frantically looked for them. It was difficult to see anything else through the vicious red of my energy, and yet I found them.

The white of her eyes had been completely engulfed in the savage, raw instincts of her need. One would have thought that the black of her eyes would mingle in with the rest of the pitch black environment, as did her face, but it was as if someone held small flashlights to each eye, accentuating the darkness that lurked within the eerie globes. All I could see through the teary mist of my vision was the fearsome magic that swirled around the erected bars, and those dark, malicious eyes; never blinking. Always watching. Then, Ivy crept out of the shadows so that her flawless visage was illuminated by the scarlet swirls of energy. Her expression was no longer contorted into pure fury, but tainted by the ironic presence of a smile. It didn't take the vampire long to burst into a sadistic fit of laughter. She held up her left hand so that I could see what I had done, even as racking amusement trilled her system.

"Please! No..."

The pain sizzling through my face because of the next wash of tears shifted to a dull ache due to the ruthless adrenaline coursing through my veins. I didn't care, anyway. Nothing mattered but the life that was currently being held on the line because of my own selfish ways. I stood to my full height, scared to death, though perfectly content with giving my life for that of the four-inch pixy held in the crushing palm of Ivy's hand.

He should have left when he had the chance. He had chosen, those many months ago, to stay with us and ensure my safety, but it would end up costing him his life. And it would be my fault. The realization struck me with such force I thought I'd topple over under the pressure; the stress. He was conscious, held within her ruthless grasp, and staring directly at me, as if pleading with the silent words that flowed from his soul. I couldn't take it anymore. Feeling utterly worthless, I avoided his gaze, and tried to focus on the living vampire before me. The lacerations on my cheeks begun to throb uncontrollably, and I scraped my face with the palms of my hands. I was desperate to clean my visage, deeming it necessary to feel the scorching flames burn my flesh as contact proved to be excruciating. My hands felt no pain even as they came away wet with blood and tears—the perfect representation of my hell with Ivy these past few months. Because that's what I essentially was: a disgusting mess of physical pain—salt-water mingling with crimson streams of guilt and betrayal—but no feeling of pain to hold me securely to this world. Pain was agony, burning, twisting and retched. What I lived was not pain. Even now, as I feared for my partner's life, the flitting pheromones in the air begun to alter the hissing pain into a mild pleasure, racing from my sliced face to the apex of my thighs.

"You don't think I was ever _stupid_ enough to hold you here without leverage, do you witch?" Her tone mocked my sanity: shattered, and in pieces around my battered body. "I knew what this decision would entail. You don't think I'll do it, do you, Rachel?"

A lump settled itself within my throat, incapacitating my ability to speak. The vampire intentionally released more pheromones, watching me intently as she did so. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my back painfully against the wall as a throbbing pleasure delighted my senses. It was too much; I didn't want it. My nails rose to dig at the cuts already engraved into my flesh, and I ripped them open, needing to feel the agony to ensure the fact that I was still very much alive. But even as I felt the flesh peel from my cheeks, all that was felt was a dull sensation, followed by an exquisitely disgusting pleasure.

"Rachel!" The authoritative male voice spoke for the first time since captured. "Stop it."

"I'm so sorry, Jenks." I spoke to him softly, ignoring the vampire, while my hands pressed firmly against me cheeks to stop the sensations. "I didn't ever mean it to..."

My voice trilled, and I shut my eyes once again. I felt the blood seep from between my fingers, the thick substance consuming my tears and dripping softly down to the floor. There was no pain. I could never bring pain upon myself, only Ivy could ever make me feel anything but the dull numbness of reality. She wanted to keep it that way, I knew. The vampire wanted me to crawl to her in desperate need to _feel_ something.

"It's okay, Rache." His voice was depraved of sarcastic ridicule, any sign of humour eluding his tone entirely. This was not Jenks. Nor was I Rachel. Ivy had stripped everyone and anyone who had stood in her way of personality as she attempted to reach her objective: claiming me as her own. "I forgive you. For everything. Don't let this eat you from the inside."

His fatherly voice brought tears back to my eyes. I could tell by the broken tone that he was holding back tears, if they weren't already streaming down his youthful face. His blonde hair was matted down with sweat and blood, both trickling down his cheeks and onto Ivy's closed hand. It didn't seem like much, perhaps a few millilitres of the red substance trailing softly to stain his clothes and flesh, and yet I could tell he was already becoming queasy, dizzy because of the blood loss. Proportionally speaking, he had lost an extremely vast amount of blood, and it would not take him much longer to lose the rest of his life's essence if Ivy kept softly squeezing his frail body.

"Come here, Rachel." Ivy's soft voice coaxed me, though it was an incredible contrast with her furious expression. "Don't make this become more out-of-hand than it already is. Drop your energy and come to me."

The compulsion struck me like a wave, enough to make me reconsider my protective prison. The one thing keeping me rooted to the ground of rational inhibition was Jenks' contorted expression of pain. Ivy's fury scared me beyond anything I'd ever seen before. It was enough to make me fall to the ground at her feet and beg for forgiveness, as well as hide in a corner, desperately hoping she'd never find me and I could finally die at peace. Ivy's eyes held mine, blazing with feral hostility and demanding I fall in a bow at her feet. Well, I wouldn't. Self-preservation wrapped its comforting arms around my fragile figure, and I stepped farther away from the wild creature, shaking my head.

"Don't be a wimp, witch."

Her harsh words dug deep into the core of my chest to seep into my heart and lungs. Breathing became a challenge instead of a reflex, and I had to stabilize myself against the wall in order to remain erect. Jenks stared directly into my eyes, bringing my frightened gaze from Ivy's icy globes to stare into his heart-warming look. I once again uttered an irrational apology to my trusted friend. Being sorry wouldn't help anything at this point, and yet I desperately needed him to know that I sincerely regretted everything that had occurred these past few months. _It's alright_, his eyes silently said. _We were both wrong about her._

The vampire shook the small pixy, pulling an agonized cry from his lips. Her eyes locked with mine, and even as I tried to rip my gaze away, it proved futile. I utterly despised the way the vampire could mesmerize me with a simple glance; reduce me to a quivering, begging mess with a sole utterance of my name. My heart thumped almost painfully against my chest as her gaze bore into mine, demanding I pay respect to her higher status. Dominance and sex oozed from her every pore, and I wanted to rip that feral look of smug superiority off of her exquisite features.

"Make your choice, Rachel. No one else will make it for you, this time." Her callous words seeped into my soul and plagued my being with their darkness. "You want to be independent, you want me to let you think on your own, well here you go. I've been a small voice in the back of your mind ever since I rightfully claimed you as mine. How does it feel, now, Rachel? Empty?"

She laughed again as she gave Jenks a small squeeze, causing him to squirm ineffectively and groan in pain. I closed my eyes, incapable of removing the horrific sights of agony from my mind. I did feel empty. My thoughts were my own, and despair crept its way through my body to leave behind an icy trail of hopelessness. I hadn't before realized just how much I needed Ivy's mind mingled in with mine to feel whole. Chances were that she left me to my own inhibition so I could effectively see just how much a part of me the vampire actually was. And it scared me beyond reason. I couldn't help the nod that cut its way through my system, informing her of my vulnerable state. She held her free hand out to me, her expression turning soft, caring. Ivy's face was comfort itself, asking me to join her so that she could softly stroke my hair until I fell asleep in her arms.

"No..." My whispered word was enough to make her jerk back, surprised.

She once again placed a mask of fury upon her unblemished features, and my heart smashed against my ribs at the sight of her anger.

"Fine." She said the word simply, as if she'd been somehow expecting my response. I was at loss for words, my mind and body numbed beyond reality, as she thrust the battered and bruised pixy ferociously to the ground. Jenks screamed as impact coursed through his small, fragile system. Before I even had time to tell her I'd take the energy down, that I'd come out, that I'd do anything and everything she asked of me, her foot came down upon the small being, entailing a disgusting crack. Blood pooled around the area which she had stomped on, and suddenly, everything went silent. A dead, creepy stillness overtook me. A crunch broke the heartwrenching silence as she twisted her foot ruthlessly, twisting the remains of my dear friend into smaller specks before removing her foot so that I could stare, unblinking, at Jenks' corpse.

"Ivy..." I spoke her name softly, incapable of grasping the fact that this was truly reality. "You couldn't have—it wasn't...supposed to end like this."

She trailed her foot across the floor in disgust, smearing a crimson trail from the sole of her bare foot to the hardwood. My mind raced to find a feasible alternate explanation for what had just occured, but all that I was left with was a depressing feeling of self-loathing. If I'd let her take me, Jenks would still be alive right now. This was my fault. Everything. My fault. My breathing became ragged and incosistent, as if my lungs tried to gulp in the most air possible, though once they were filled, they'd reject the oxygen as if I didn't deserve to live. My fingers curled into fists, my thoughts jumping from one conclusion to another in a vain attempt to dissect the situation.

Just as I thought I'd finally grasped the severity of the situation, I felt Ivy's mind collide with mine. I heard a sharp intake of breath, ragged and desperate, only to realize shortly after that the sound had come from my own throat. My heart beat frantically in my chest cavity as I tried to sustain the second mind swirling freely within my own. My breath hitched audibly, only to resume at a different pace a few seconds later, which I noticed matched the vampire's inhale and exhale of breath flawlessly. I began to once again hear the reassuring and yet terrifying thump of her heart, mirroring my own. Her thoughts slammed into my own, mingling ruthlessly with my rational inhibition to alter them into a single train of thought: _Ivy._

"Come here."

The command was simple, uttered so that a canine would be perfectly capable of complying with ease. And yet I held back. The vampire's prodding mind pushed and pushed at my own, muttering degrading things to me and stating that everything would once again fall into place once I was held within the security of her arms. The contrast was mind-blowing, and I was left feeling light headed. Her mental violation was almost the same as what Ivy would do to twist my mind into an inhuman form with physical abuse. She would slap me repeatedly, punch me down, kick me across the room, solely to catch up with my battered body and softly stroke my hair, telling me that everything would be okay if I'd simply listen to her. After months of callous torture on a physical and mental level, it was perfectly rational of me to desperately crave those precious moments when she'd hold me in her arms and whisper soothing nothings into my ear. Right?

I stepped forward, toward the swirling energy, just so I could see her clearer. I wasn't going to let her get to me just yet, but I needed to see her. Voices in the back of my mind told me that there was absolutely no problem in allowing her to touch me, so I did. I came to the edge of my self-inflicted prison, just as Ivy's hands slipped passed the bars so that she could softly stroke my face.

As soon, however, as her delicate fingers connected with the sensitive flesh of my visage, a jolt of electricity seemed to hiss from Ivy to myself. I jerked back as soon as I realized that they were intentions, burning fury and wretchedly twisted with intent to cause submission. Images clearly formulated within her mind flooded mine; repetitive violent attacks. Punch. Kick. Slap. Over and over and over. Of course, they were only images, and I was still safe in my prison. There was no pain, and yet I cringed merely thinking about it as the violent scenes continued to plague my mind. Her hand fisting in my hair and dragging me across the room so that she could throw me onto the blood-soaked mattress. The vampire atop me, nails scraping furiously once more into the already sizzling skin, entailing a merciless agony.

I pressed away from her, shutting my eyes and trying desperately to ignore the waves of compulsion cutting through me like a knife. If I didn't have to look at her, then I wouldn't be forced to endure the perverse urges that the voices kept softly whispering in the depths of my mind. But even as my eyes squeezed shut, my body many feet away from her touch, the images kept their consuming of my mind, my soul. Ivy had switched the imagery this time, and I watched from a third person perspective as two women writhed naked together on a bedspread covered in freshly spilled blood. Us. It was just as the image of Ivy Tamwood looked up at me from the fictional scene, blood coating her face and seeping from between her lips, that the connection was abruptly severed and I fell to the ground due to lack of support. I distinctly heard a hissed inhale, and I forced my eyes open so that I could look at the vampire. Her eyes were black with hunger, a deep satisfaction lurking behind those eerie globes. My mind and soul felt hollow as she tore away every last remnant of her being that once crawled within my body. I lay in a limp heap on the ground, my every limb feeling like lead.

"Rache-e-e-el..." Ivy chanted my name softly, mockingly. "You think this doesn't give me pleasure? If I'd wanted you to be consistently submissive, I wouldn't have done what I did. A child that relentlessly receives his heart's desires will one day become bored with the most priceless of toys. I couldn't exactly spoil myself with you, now could I?"

I curled into a foetal position, trying to make myself as small as possible, trying to block out the disgusting words of the vampire. Fear crept its way into my system, consuming my rational inhibition and leaving me feeling smaller than a cockroach. My teeth clenched together, and I tried to wipe away the blood that ran down my cheeks like tears. I detested being left alone with my own emotions, though, at the same time, it gave me the grounding I needed. Nevertheless, my mind was racing to find an anchor, something to hold me down to Earth while I desperately tried to weasel out of this situation. A racking sob broke its way through my cracked and bleeding lips, urging me to curl up further.

Another inhaled hiss.

"Fuck, witch." Her voice was hoarse and provocative. "You're so scared. Do you have any goddamn idea how good you smell when you're terrified?"

"Leave me alone!" The words exited my mouth before I had time to catalogue them within my mind. I stood up, facing the vampire, and poked her squarely in the chest, causing her to backpedal in surprise. "You k...you killed him—"

I stopped for a minute, finally grasping the severity of the situation. He was really gone. Ivy had killed him cold-bloodedly because I'd refused to obey her. My bottom lip began to quiver, and my body threatened to fall in a limp heap. Jenks was dead. My mind hadn't been capable of registering the information because everything had simply occurred so fast, but a tear rolled down my tear at this moment, in sincere regret for my lost friend.

"You really did it..." My voice was barely a whisper until a burst of adrenaline coursed through my system, entailing an elevated, shrieking tone. "You fucking killed him! He never did anything to you and you squished him like a bug! That was Jenks...Ivy, that was _Jenks_. Bitch! You don't deserve to live, you don't deserve anything but to have someone stake you through the heart for the sadistic monster that you are."

My voice became ragged as tears ran unrestrained down my cheeks. The flames of leyline energy that protectively licked at the bars separating us burst into furious existence, menacingly jumping from metal column to column as if displaying their authority. I was in control. At least, that was what I'd believed. Ivy's face, that had otherwise remained unreadable during my shrieks, was now glistening with female amusement.

"Mmm." She emitted a breathy moan of pure sensuality, closing her eyes. "I want to fuck you so much right now."

"No! God, stop it!" I was at loss of words; anger bubbling viciously within my core for everything she'd done, not the least bit affected by the flitting pheromones in the air around us. "What the hell is your problem? Can't you just leave me alone—even better: kill me already! Squish me. Bleed me to death. I don't give a fuck anymore, Ivy. Please. You don't need me for anything but t—"

My words stopped abruptly and I harshly jerked back as her hand ran sensually up my side so that she could grab my breast in the possessive palm of her hand. Her voice was seduction itself, and as she spoke to me, her eyes opened slowly so that I could see the darkening hunger that consumed her eyes. "You're too fun to play with."

Her dilated pupils never left mine as I pushed away from the bars to press against the wall. Horrified, I watched her smile never falter even as she grasped two of the bars with each hand, holding her palms against the sizzling energy long enough for me to see smoke rising from the furious magic connecting with living tissue. Her eyes narrowed, grin widening, an expression of utter delight racing across her features as Ivy begun pulling at the bars with the strength of accumulated fury. The way she moaned pleasurably as the scorching red power burned away the flesh of her palms was twisted, wrenching my gut and creating a nauseating sensation in the pit of my stomach. I screamed as the metal snapped under the incredible pressure, and the leyline energy reacted to my outburst, leaping from the opposing bars to make up for the lost material. Ivy smiled as my power increased, my subconscious mind desperately trying to protect my frail and quivering body.

I honestly have to say I was surprised when she grabbed me by the collar of my shirt to pull me up to eye level. Not because of the brusque and aggressive movement, but the fact that she left me feeling empty and hollow while she shook me around like a doll was astonishing. Generally, by this time, she'd have issued a full-blown merge so that I couldn't think straight; leaving me feeling dazed and confused regarding my own emotions. It was a tactic I think she'd acquired over the course of the months, one that I had to admit worked exquisitely. But not this time. Her mind eluded mine completely, even as her lips painfully came crashing down into my own. I even tried to push her away as her arm came to wrap possessively around my waist, only to pull a deep moan of satisfaction from her lips. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, I punched Ivy in the chest cavity, forcing her to release me and bend over in pain. Her shoulders rose and fell to the sound of her breathing before the pace increased. Was she crying?

No. Of course not.

Ivy Tamwood was laughing.

Her face came up unexpectedly, black eyes glistening with deadly threat. The vampire then lurched at me, posture feral, lips curled back aggressively, and canines dripping wet with intent. Her finders curled around my throat, squeezing my windpipe sadistically as I struggled to breathe. Her nails intentionally dug into the flesh of my neck, passing over the raised scar tissue of her previous violations of my body to entail a crushing pleasure. I couldn't help it. My arms wrapped sensually around her curvaceous figure and I arched my back so that my body moulded with hers. However, immediately, the pleasure was cut short and I was left feeling the abusive and invasive touch of the vampire upon me: nothing else. I hated the pitiable whine that escaped me as I once again felt the agonizing despair of emptiness and solitude.

"Dear heart..." Her voice was raw with emotion—I tried to decipher them, but was left feeling confused as her actions hastened when her expression softened. Her hand fisted in my hair, arm thrusting downwards to smash my forehead painfully against the hardwood floor. I screamed aloud, gasping when I felt a trail of fresh blood seeping from the new wound gaping in my forehead. My head throbbed. My heart pulsed frantically. My lungs wheezed for air. The pain raced through my body and sliced my pride like a knife.

The vampire brought my head harshly to the side, bringing me face to face with the pile of blood and crushed matter that once was the man and friend I called Jenks. She shook me a little, making my own blood drip down to mingle with his, and I choked back a sob that threatened to erupt through my quivering lips. Ivy held me tighter this time, bringing my face down so that I could smell the putrid stench of death that lingered upon his corpse.

"Apologize." Ivy's voice was sudden, unexpected. "Tell him you're sorry."

"Wh-what?"

The vampire shook me again, her tone furious. "Tell the fucking bastard that this was your fault and that you apologize!"

My eyes squeezed shut, a tear slipping to fall onto the gruesome corpse. "I'm sorry."

As soon as the last word left my lips, Ivy threw my feeble body across the room, and I landed against the opposite wall with a _thud!_ She approached me with excruciating leisure, looming above my sobbing heap before kicking me with the bare foot she had utilized to end a life this night. I groaned painfully, clutching my middle just as another wave of agony hit me when she struck me once more.

"S-s-stop!" I barely managed to scream the plea, but it worked. She ceased her abuse, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and hoisting my up to eye level. When Ivy realized I wasn't capable of sustaining my own weight, she once again wrapped her arm around my waist, the other hand held at the nape of me neck to stabilize my lolling head. My next word was almost inaudible; the fact that she was a vampire was the only reason she heard my supplication. "Please..."

"Shhh." Her hand found its way in my hair, and I sighed, closing my eyes. "It's okay."

It was stupid. Irrational. Illogical. Unreasonable. It went against anything and everything I'd previously worked to establish, but I let her hold me. I let her speak soothing nothings to me, perfectly content with blocking out my mind screaming for retribution. Slowly, this time, I felt her mind merge with mind, coating my pain with her soothing comfort and presence. My mind thankfully let her in, despite the fact that she'd been abusing me mere moments ago. _This_ in comparison to the violent and hostile way the vampire treated me was heaven: paradise. Everyone had their outbursts once in a blue moon; Ivy's were simply more hectic than usual. It wasn't her fault.

_It isn't my fault._

No, of course it wasn't her fault. Ivy was here to protect me, and it didn't matter that I hadn't wanted her in the first place. Jenks' corpse lay restfully a few feet across from us, and at least now I knew he felt no more pain. With her gentle hands supporting me, her delicate gaze soothing my gaping wounds, and her lips finally soft atop my own, I realized one of the reasons I had been fine with the concept of her possession in the first place was just this. Comfort. Ivy. Our lips parted, and russet found emerald in a passionate moment, a peaceful whisper of words the only sound audible in the otherwise silent scene.

"I love you."

"Mmm. I love you too, Ivy."

**Authors Note (Again? Yes, again. Now listen.): **Okay so I just thought I'd place this here so not everyone was devastatingly confused by my utterly weird way of twisting this plot. So for those wondering, Rachel's sudden mood changes correlate with Ivy's compulsion and the presence of the vampire in the witch's mind—which is accessible through the forced bond they have. Also...I'm so sorry for killing Jenks! He was just *ahem* kind of getting in the way and I didn't know what to do with him...so...why not just cut him out? Sorry. Please forgive me if you're a Jenks fan. So...umm. Please tell me what you really thought of this if you're going to review. I don't exactly know what to make of reviews such as "Like a train wreck...can't seem to look away." So...just give it to me bluntly. Thanks! ...I think.


	6. Algaliarept

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters; they belong to the wonderful Kim Harrison. I just need an outlet for my Ivy/Rachel frustration.  
**Author's Note: **I feel I'm required to place these notes in the chapters of this series in particular, simply to clear things up with the readers that may hate me. I mean it's okay if you don't like these types of stories; everyone's entitled to their own opinions. My last chapter was essentially to draw a solid line between those who loved and loathed this new idea—to accentuate the fact that "Stripped of Will" was not going to revolve around puppies, rainbows and unicorns. I can't promise a happy ending; truth is, I don't even know how this is going to be coming to completion. Retribution is not, either, what I seek in this string of heart wrenching events. One thing I can say for certain is that I do plan on delving deeper into this relationship, and it might get ugly. Feel free to close the window, if that is your desire. If not, then I hope you enjoy this new instalment (Sorry this took so long)!

In any other situation, I would have smacked his hand away. Punched him in the gut. Kicked him in the crotch. Anything to force him to release me. The sole reason I remained passive to the demon Algaliarept as his callused fingers forced my head from side to side, was the fact that Ivy stood behind me, one of her hands gripping my shoulder. The way he inspected my bruised visage, his digits curled around my chin…the term _degrading_ would be an understatement. He made soft sounds of discontent as he scrutinized me as if I were an object he was debating on whether to purchase or not. The way he clenched my biceps to pull my arms up prior to letting them fall back down to slap at my sides was painful, but I didn't dare make a sound. The agony entailing a protest to his actions would be far more severe than this—a pain which would be delivered by Ivy's hand.

"_Worthless_," I could have sworn hearing the demon mutter as he released me and stepped away. Moments proceeding his distancing in proximity, Ivy stepped forward to curl her arms around my neck in a sign of possession, her gaze never leaving his. Her hold was not enough to cut off my air, but firm to indicate ownership.

Al had removed his dark glasses during his examination of my body, showing off his eerie, goat-slit pupils. The glare of his gaze was not directed at me, however, but to the vampire pressed up against my back. I glanced up to see that Ivy, too, was ignoring me and narrowing her eyes at the demon. I was invisible between the two, and yet their focal object of discussion.

"What, exactly, did you do to her?" Al's british accent was thick and enunciated, indicating that he wasn't taking this the slightest bit seriously. Even his stance oozed mockery, the way his hip was sluggishly leaning against the threshold of our bedroom, his bored expression demonstrating a forced nonchalance. "I thought you'd take her in as your sex toy, not your punching bag," he paused to look over my battered body. "Poor Rachel. Look at her, she's quivering. The unfortunate thing."

Had I not been staring directly into the demon's glittering eyes, I would have believed he genuinely cared about my well-being. But of course, he had that detestable smirk plastered upon his features.

Immediately proceeding Al's statement of sarcastic pity, Ivy's arms tightened around my neck and her voice rose in threat. "_What_ I choose to do with her on my own time is none of your business. I am perfectly capable of determining which ways are more successful than others when it comes down to discipline. You were not called here to assess my capacities as a master, but to complete the task enquired. So answer the question, or you go home empty-handed."

I had to admit she had a firm grasp upon the ways of handling a demon when in position of the summoner. Short, and to the point. She'd probably seen me do it more times than I would have liked, but it didn't matter at this point; that was a thing of the past. I'd not summoned a demon since Ivy had latched our minds together those many months ago—she would never allow it. The vampire left no room in her impeccable string of phrases for Al to mock her with, and her eye contact with him never faltered as she spoke. One would have almost believed she was attempting to assert a distinct dominance over the demon, but it was unlikely Al would ever fold to such a novice summoner as Ivy. And yet as she spoke, he would fold his hands in his front, or clasp them behind his back, and listen. She had gained more respect from him in about half an hour than I'd ever acquired in the years I'd known him. It wasn't fair. Then again, it might have been due to the fact that she'd summoned him out of a circle. I didn't understand why, though. It wasn't as if I wouldn't have made her one if she'd asked me for it, but then again, perhaps the reason she'd chosen to do it this way was out of past experiences turning wrong when pissing off the demon.

Al began to pace, never breaking Ivy's eye contact, and he furrowed his eyebrows in a mocking manner. "You never did tell me," he drawled the words, a smile playing upon his lips, "what my compensation for this information would be. I can't exactly hand over knowledge—should it apply or not, in your case—if my prize would simply be an empty candy wrapper, now can I? I'll need to know if it's satisfactory, love."

I felt her body tense as he uttered the word "love," but she didn't retort in any way, as I'd have expected her to. Instead, she grumbled something unintelligible, a single word that even I was incapable of hearing. Al mockingly held his hand up to his ear in sign that he couldn't hear the vampire, and she grumbled the utterance a tad louder, "Nick."

My eyebrows shot up at the same time as Al's, but likely for an entirely different reason. Mine was shock. His was…amusement. "Nicholas Gregory Sparagmos!" The demon squealed in delight. "Are you certain, Ivy Alisha Tamwood, that you aren't pulling my chain?"

He was jumping up and down, excitement glittering in the depths of his crimson irises. I felt the vampire once again tense behind me as he uttered her three names with a sensuous tone to his voice, the very same trick he would utilize when trying to mess with me. Same old Al.

"Look," her voice became acid as she hissed it through clenched teeth. "Just give me the information I want to know, and then you'll get to leave here with crap for brains."

The demon sobered up faster than I would have expected, Ivy's tone somehow having that strong an effect upon him. I wouldn't go as far as calling him submissive, but it was a hell of a lot more acquiescent than I'd ever seen him. Al's lips thinned into a tight line and I saw his teeth clench through the flesh of his cheeks; his eyes narrowed, and he began pacing towards us and away, simply to start up again.

"Why?" He finally asked as he stopped before us, hands on his hips and a quizzical allure upon his features.

"Why what?"

Ivy knew very well what Algaliarept was talking about; she was simply hiding behind that finely sculpted emotional mask that she used to use in my presence. He seemed to know this particular fact as well as I, seeing as his lips curled into an amusing grimace, and he narrowed his eyes in challenge. "Why do you want to strip her powers?"

His masculine, british tone hit each word flawlessly, and he accentuated each utterance with a gentle tilting of his head. I could have sworn hearing the vampire snarl behind me, but it wasn't as if it would surprise me at this point. Of course not—I'd seen Ivy Tamwood do much more than snarl at an antagonistic figure in the many months I'd been bound to her through minds. Ironically, it was this same bond that allowed me to get a firmer grasp upon the situation; first I hadn't even realized what the demon had concretely said. It was through Ivy's mind that I was able to fully comprehend the implications.

I spoke up for the first time. "You want…to strip my powers?"

The vampire turned her head and gave me a sad, close-lipped smile. "It's for your own benefit, honey. You'll end up hurting yourself with them; it's like handing a sharp knife to a small child. Completely irrational."

"She's threatened by your power, itchy witch." Al's voice rose high above Ivy's swarming whispers of reassurance invading my mind. The vampire gave him a cold glare, and he shrugged nonchalantly before bringing his eyes back to me. "Can't stand the fact that you could blast her with a surge of energy if that was your desire. It's control she's after, and she can't very well obtain it when it would be easy for your witch ass to kick hers any day."

He snapped his fingers for emphasis on the last word of his sentence, and it was like Ivy had mistaken the sound for a man firing a pistol into the air while screaming "GO!" Her arms disappeared, leaving me feeling naked and pathetic without her body to shield mine from whatever was out there, and she lunged at the man standing casually before us. Her fingers curled around his throat, and her face came inches from his. "I don't need your help, demon."

My lip curled up in disgust as spittle spewed from her lips every time she enunciated a consonant, landing on Al's visage in a scattered pattern. He took in a deep, ragged breath, keeping his posture indifferent and succeeding in fooling me regarding comfort.

"Evidently you do, Tamwood." He intentionally spat back at Ivy as he uttered her name. "Otherwise you would not have requested my services."

My eyes widened as I saw Al's figure begin to undulate with a fine sheen of ever-after; his long blonde hair lengthening and sizzling into a fiery red. It only took a few seconds for his entire body to have flawlessly mirrored mine, as if we'd been made from the exact same mould. The only difference was that his me was pretty. It wasn't at all like staring into that dreadful mirror every morning—those dark circles, colorless eyes and apathetic expression. No, he was the perfect me. As soon as Ivy realized what the demon was doing, she tried to jerk away, but Al grabbed her hand and held it to his throat.

He smiled with my face, an evil grin that I would never have plastered upon me. The characterization was all wrong, and yet Ivy seemed entranced to the point of fear. I gasped as Al's hand circled the vampire's waist, bringing her closer to my possessed figure, and I watched my own lips descend upon hers. I couldn't help the rumbling jealousy that burned through me, slicing its way up my spine and clenching my jaw; tightening my muscles; curling my fingers into fists.

She wrenched her face away from his. "Bastard! Let me go!"

"Ivy Alisha Tamwood," he inhaled deeply through his nose, as if he was pleasuring himself with the simple anger that Ivy seemed to be exuding. "You worst fear, love."

With those last words, Ivy was flung across the room as an incredible amount of leyline energy shot from his body into hers. I could have sworn almost seeing it coat her callously, before shocking her entire body into submission as she flew to crash into the opposite wall. I felt the power sizzle through me, even having to double over so that I could at least _attempt_ to dissipate the growing pain in my stomach, as the bond I had with Ivy expressed one of its negative consequences. But what I thought surprising was the fact that it was not the pain that had me shaking, ready to curl into a foetal position, but the fear that coursed through my blood stream, engulfing the contents of my veins to replace them with sheer terror. Fright was prominent over agony for Ivy. Why?

I rushed to her side, my heart pounding in my chest. I just simply couldn't help it; even though this woman had sent me to the depths of hell, only to bring me back so she could send me back again whenever she wished it, I couldn't stand seeing her slumped into a heap—weak and scared. I wrapped my arm around her waist and tried to hoist her up on my shoulder, letting out a gasp of pain as she backhanded me. My chin fell to my chest, and I hunched my back in an act of submission, taking full responsibility in having displeased her. Like a beaten puppy, I regained my position near the wall and sat down, brows furrowed, tears stinging the back of my eyes.

"Jesus Christ," the utterance was a whisper, the low, masculine voice shocking me. I heard steps in my direction; they ceased before reaching me. "What did you do to her? She's not even coherent anymore…why didn't she do anything? She always defends herself, she always does _something._"

"I wouldn't have hit her if I hadn't thought she was _you_," Ivy snarled from the floor.

"That's not what I'm talking about." Al had crouched down to my level, his fingers once again tilting my chin upwards—however this time it wasn't in any harsh manner. Almost…soft. He whispered to me, knowing Ivy could hear him, and yet giving me the illusion of privacy I so desperately craved. "What did she do to you, Rachel?"

"I'm broken."

My voice was cracked, barely audible. I just wanted him to leave so that Ivy wouldn't have to bestow a greater punishment upon me because of _his_ disobedience. I looked up at him, seeing the reflection of my disgustingly apathetic expression in the red irises of his goat-slit eyes. I'd never seen him in this state before. For once, his features were depraved of emotion—the only sadness I saw was in his eyes. Sorrow for having lost a student? Potential mate capable of replenishing the demon population? Friend? Whatever it was, it was sadness nonetheless.

"That's enough!" Ivy's voice boomed, the remnants of her words still thrumming in my ears as I snapped my chin back to touch my chest. "Demon, I banish you from this place, demanding that you depart and not return until once again summoned."

Al gave me a sad smile and hugged me. No joke. The demon hugged me.

"I am deeply sorry things had to turn out this way, Rachel." He stood. "I wish you the best of luck."

I gave him a quick nod, my eyes once again beginning to water. Goddammit, why did Al have to choose this situation to be nice to me? Foes were turning into potential friends, friends into definite foes…my life was a string of unfortunate events. In the blink of an eye, the room was left empty of life, not counting the living vampire standing a few feet away from me.

_Life._

I rolled the word around in my head a couple of times, trying to find a concrete definition. None of the ones I came up with applied to my situation at the exception of the most obvious one: an individual possessing both a beating heart and functioning lungs. An operational mind was debatable in terms of deciding if a person without one would still apply to the category of the living. I didn't think so.

My heartbeat increased and my lungs heaved while my mind remained numb, as Ivy approached my quivering figure. I had managed to wrap my arms around my legs, forehead resting on my knees, chin against my chest; over the course of trial and error, this was the position easiest to attain in the least amount of time that would shield me the most from Ivy's blows. I still found it difficult to believe that the vampire could become above and beyond enraged in a matter of seconds, for the slightest of annoyance. When things didn't go her way, I was punished. When I disobeyed, I was punished. When, for whatever reason, adrenaline happened to be coursing through her system with me in proximity, I was punished. It was almost a schedule, now. Yet when I felt the first, feather-light touch against the back of my neck, my entire body tensed. _Soon, _I told myself. _Soon it'll begin, and soon after that, it'll end._

I was surprised to feel the gentle fingertips begin a slow massage upon the nape of my neck, even more so when Ivy's voice rose with a broken pitch. "You know I'm sorry I hit you, don't you dear heart? I just can't have things spiral out of control like I thought they would. Anything and everything I do is for a purpose, always remember that, Rachel. As long as you trust I'll do just that, everything will be fine. Fine." She repeated the word again in a softer tone, as if it would help enforce the meaning. I jumped as she squeezed my neck painfully before releasing me and giving me a hard slap on the back of the head. "Now go clean up. You smell like shit."

I cringed under the brute strength of her power upon my neck, remaining small even as the vampire stood, expecting me to follow. If her displeased grumbles were any indication, it was clear that she believed Al had had an effect upon my obedience. I felt her inside my head, prodding, snaking around through my emotions and trying to comprehend why I was even attempting to erect a mental barrier so that she couldn't read me. It was futile, evidently. Even as my mind tried to push her out, I could sense her livid state rising, her thoughts pressing harder into mine to see if I would back down before she needed to utilize extreme measures. Over the course of many, many months, I had learned that for a stunt like this, I was likely to be punished no matter what my next moves would be, so for some absurd, irrational reason, I continued to fight her presence within my mind.

I wasn't certain if Al had had that much of an impact upon me; perhaps he had simply rekindled a living, fighting flame that had been softly burning inside of me for a while, now. His gestures, tone of voice…I had the distinct impression he was trying to deliver a subliminal message. Trying to tell me that if I did need help, he would have a genuine desire to aid me—should it be for personal or impersonal reasons was what I had yet to find out, but right now it didn't matter. Even if it didn't turn out to be a favour he would choose to offer me, what was another demon mark compared to a lifetime of servitude and sexual favours?

"Enough!" They were games, really. Anything and everything I chose to do to disobey her were all simple games. Even if I tried my hardest to block my master from entering my thoughts, she would find a loop hole, weasel in and torture me from the inside with no remorse or mercy to tie her down. Ivy plunged each of her thumbs on either side of my jawbone, bringing me up to meet her eyes while I gritted my teeth in pain. Every nerve present on my body that was sensible enough to make me stop anything I was doing and listen, Ivy was aware of it. Every weak muscle on my figure that was accessible through the thin and battered layers of my flesh, Ivy took advantage of them. Any and every pleasure Ivy could bestow upon me in punishment or to satisfy her own sexual perversions, she would practice with no restriction. I was her doll. Her plaything.

Her eyes stared directly into mine, pupils dilating and veins bursting in the whites of her eyes. She was furious. And yet, a disturbing smirk found its way upon her lips, sculpting the mounds of luscious flesh into a sensuous temptation. "Why now?" Her words were velvet, inviting. "Why choose this moment to fight my power, dear heart? Did the pitiful demon have any kind of an effect on you, is that it?"

She repositioned the rest of her fingers against the scars on my neck, thumbs stroking my windpipe as if to demonstrate her supremacy—indicating without words that she could cease my breathing if that was her desire, that she was in control. It disgusted me almost as much as her expression of amusement. It was one thing to know you were powerless, vulnerable to any type of attack or abuse, but it was another entirely to be aware of the fact that another someone was taking literal pleasure in seeing your feeble state, knowing they were the ones to be causing it—knowing that they were the one's maintaining it.

"Let me go." My voice rasped, toes barely touching the ground. "Set me free."

I had managed to surprise the vampire, seeing as she released her hold of me to step back and shake her head in confusion. She was as aware as I, however, that my demands' implications were far from being as simple as letting my neck loose. No, I wanted out. Of the church, of my internal prison, of her life.

Before she could say a word, I had already begun spilling what was on my mind. "It—this—serves no purpose anymore, Ivy. You know what it's like, you know how goddamn miserable you can make someone else feel. If you thought that all this time spent with your constant abuses and attacks was going to let me love you, you're wrong…surprisingly, I must admit." I let the sarcasm drip from my voice, letting all the hatred and loathing spill down with it. "Who_ever_ would have thought that holding someone against their will, raping, beating, and torturing them would prove to be a futile attempt at trying to make them love you back, eh, Ivy? What else can you do to degrade me? Branding, Ivy? Maybe that'll work!"

My voice had risen to a hysterical shriek, my arms flailing as I enunciated each consonant with a sopping repugnance. Her upper lip twitched in anger, but adrenaline was soaring merrily through me, and I couldn't stop. I took a step towards her as I spoke each statement, my body coming dangerously close to hers.

"I've been humiliated. Driven to the brink of insanity. Compressed and packed-down until I was worth less than that pile of _shit_ on the sole of your shoe! Isn't this what you wanted? Are you happy? I'm worthless. Pathetic. Hollow. There's nothing more for you to gain from this situation. Nothing else is going to arise from my misery at the exception of a deeper depression. Why can't you place your pride aside and give me freedom after all these months? Please."

For the first time, she took a step towards me—and I took a step back. "You think this is about pride? You think the reason I show you to every passing eye, portraying you as my own is because of the fact that I'm arrogant?" She laughed, though it held no hint of humour. "It has nothing to do with that, Rachel. Reputation, either, is not something I desire to uphold with the demonstration of my possession," her hand came up to cup my cheek, adoration gleaning in her eyes. "You really are a beauty, dear heart. After all this time, all that you've been through, I still see you as the most shimmering diamond on this globe. What I choose to do with you—the reason I keep you in here, confined to these walls, omitting the occasional social event—is for my own personal entertainment. My pleasure, Rachel. No matter what you say, no matter what you seem to think, you'll never stop fighting. Probably the reason I chose to latch my emotions onto you in the first place, actually…you're a warrior. And that is why my pleasure will never die down. Until you are a cold, motionless corpse, deep within the ground, maggots digging deep into your pores and eating away at your flesh, you will be mine."

She chose her last words carefully, expecting to receive a disgusted response. I clenched my fists, bit at my tongue to the point of drawing blood. Ivy's nostrils flared, and her eyes shot to darkness as fast as I could snap my fingers. Despite the gnawing hunger that clawed at her insides, she kept her cool, wrapping a gentle arm around my waist and pulling me closer with a softness that one would see in the situation of a loving couple.

"As for the part where you claim to detest me," she whispered sensuously against my earlobe, "I'm fairly certain I can work around that."

Ivy brought her head back to face mine, and she claimed my lips without hesitation. At first, my eyes squeezed shut and I tried to pull back, but knowing exactly what she was doing, never acting without reason, Ivy's tongue came out to dance with mine, triggering the neurotoxins within my open wound. I moaned, a tear streaming down my cheek, as I pressed into her to try and enhance the sensations. She retracted the dextrous appendage, trailing it leisurely against my swollen bottom lip, and brought her arms tighter around my waist. We kissed again, this time even softer, drawing out the gentle mingling of aromas and pleasure until we were both left breathless and throbbing.

"You do know what today is, right?" Ivy's voice sounded hoarse, sexy, due to her trying to catch her breath. My head twitched upward in a harsh manner, as my mind tried to regain control of my craving body—and I failed. I shook my head, curious. She leaned in, nipping at the cartilage on my ear and making me shudder. "It's been exactly a year since I bound your mind, body and soul to my own."

My every muscle tensed as the impact of her words sunk in to tear at my heart.

"Happy anniversary, dear heart."


	7. Memories

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters. They belong to Kim Harrison…sadly.

**A/N:** I just want all of you to know that I am aware of my atrocious updating skills. Ideas seem to have been pouring in lately, so I'm going to try and get more chapters for "Stripped of Will" out, soon!

The water had turned from a near boiling heat, to mild warmth over the course of time. Our bath had been filled to the rim over an hour ago—nearly a quarter of it now pooled on the tiled floor, as water sloshed over the edges when Ivy moved behind me; her naked body brushing up against mine. I'd no clue just how long we both sat there, the bubbles lapping against my flushed skin with the vampire tracing lines across my bare back. The sounds of her voice had diminished for a short while, my mind wandering away from the present to linger in the past: happiness that was once mine, but now lost forever. Though as the touch accompanying her words grew more and more noticeable, Ivy's voice began to once again burst into existence.

"Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty five…" The tips of her fingers lightly grazed the flesh of my back, before relocating to a different area—every time a new, ascending number was voiced in a whisper, a new location was labeled as such by Ivy's feather-light touch. "…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine…"

The vampire was counting my scars.

My eyes were closed; my breath coming in and out through my parted lips. I loathed the mere concept of it, but Ivy's movements upon my naked back were soothing, gentle, enough to softly rock me into slumber. I heard her release a satisfied noise as I sighed and slumped my shoulders forward to allow her a wider expanse of bare flesh. She continued counting, and my thoughts once again drifted away to better days. I sighed. _Jenks._ He had always been somewhat of a father to me, had always told me to refrain from rousing Ivy's instincts intentionally. I hadn't listened. Now, he was dead, and I sat motionless, naked in a bathtub, with the vampire's touch soft upon my back.

"Ivy, I'm clean," I managed to rasp when her feather-light touch lingered upon one scar for a moment too long.

She kissed my collarbone, and whispered against my skin; the feel of her lips, swollen and inviting, moving upon me as she spoke. "Yes, dear heart, you are."

The moment her words were uttered, Ivy stood and stepped out of the tub, the sound of the water dripping from her nude body reminding me of a cascading waterfall. I formed the image within my mind, a smile forming on my lips as I gazed in awe upon the illusion of mere imagination. It was beautiful: the water, the sky, nature itself. But in the back of my mind, even as I tried to hold onto those few precious moments of bliss, I knew where I was. I knew _who_ I was with.

"Up." Ivy's voice sliced cleanly through the scenery I had managed to create. Before my eyes could open, before I knew what I was doing, I realized I was already standing; the feel of Ivy's hands soft on my waist as she helped me out of the tub. "Good girl."

The canine-like term had been one she'd begun using quite frequently over the course of the past few months. The worst thing was that, despite myself, those two words of sycophantic acknowledgement were enough to make me beam with pride. _She was pleased with me_. Ivy wrapped me in a towel, passing her hands everywhere on my body while drying me—as if I was unable to do so myself.

I remained still, unmoving, as she dried every inch of my body with the towel she had previously been using herself. It was still slightly damp, the cool breeze from the open door having a noticeable effect on the water retained within the towel. I shivered, and immediately as Ivy became aware of my state, she flung the damp towel onto the ground and wrapped me in her arms. I felt her naked breasts press into mine; one arm circled my shoulders and the other came to the small of my back as to keep me in place. Softly, almost hesitantly, her fingers stroked she goose bumps on my bare skin, the heat from her body radiating into mine and making me sigh contentedly.

"Better?" She smiled into my neck.

My head lolled to the side in act of submission, and my eyes fluttered shut. "Better."

I heard a low growl rumble in her throat at the sight of my exposed neck, and she brought my chin up with two fingers so that I could face her. Ivy's eyes were clouded with desire, pupils expanded to near-full capacity. I'd roused her instincts. "Now now, Rachel," she drawled sternly. "Don't start. We can't be late for this party, and you know that. We're lucky to even have been invited—the guest list is more exclusive than that a private wedding. Rynn is finally celebrating these past hundred years of his life, and we're going to be _on time._ Understand?"

My head bobbed up and down slowly as it returned to face her. Something inside of me stung; the effects of the poison trickling through my system and burning its way as it passed. _I disappointed her; offered something she wasn't willing to accept._ It made my heart swell with sadness and, by God, I couldn't even stop the tears as they begun to sting the back of my eyes. "I'm sorry, Ivy."

"It's okay." She laughed softly, throatily, a sympathetic and gentle smile present to accompany the melodious sound. Eyes locked with my own, her fingers curled the nape of my neck possessively before ghosting up into my hair. Wild, red curls wrapped themselves around those dexterous appendages that could have me mewling, writhing, and begging for more in mere seconds if that was her desire. She kissed me, then. Soundly. Deeply. Passionately. Her lips against mine held more emotion than any set of words could contain. _I love you. I'll never let you go. Be mine and I'll be yours._ The cheesy declarations of adoration were near garbage compared to the way Ivy Tamwood touched me. With a single caress, she could pass across the message that I was the most beautiful woman in the world, that she wanted none other; nothing more than to hold me tight for the rest of eternity. Or, with a slight adjustment in strength, that gleaming allure of domineering hostility plastered upon her features, and a hint of aggression, Ivy could concoct the flawless portrayal of a different message: G_et on your knees. Fuck me. Give me the blood that runs through your veins. Praise me as your God, and I'll spare you a minute portion of the beating you rightfully deserve._

Her lips were still against mine as I played through each of the torturous scenes of the vampire's violent love-making. The words she'd use; the degrading terminologies that would be allotted to my quivering self when I cried out for her to stop, when everything combined was enough to make me explode—the emotions swelling within me until I could keep them hidden no longer. Rage began to flow through my hollow figure, making my limbs twitch as muscles pulled together and blood pumped with purpose through my veins.

Ivy, thinking I was still cold, moaned and pulled me closer to the warmth of her body, seeking the intimate closeness only her lifeless puppet could offer. It was as soon as her arm snaked its way around my waist to tighten her hold upon me, tongue entering my mouth without authorization that I blew. Unintentionally, my will found the ley line out back, and my chi sucked every ounce of energy it could contain—even more, to the point where the backs of my eyes sizzled with the excess power that threatened to leak from my every pore. A feral growl ripped its way from the bottom of my throat, surprising even me. As the breath whooshed out from my lungs and into hers; it was accompanied with a harsh expulse of the energy that was swirling viciously within me. Relief made me go limp as Ivy's arms released me, and I collapsed to the bathroom tiles with the feeling of a previously parched man offered gallons of water. I didn't think I'd ever held as much energy as what had been swirling within my chi moments ago, and as everything else in my surroundings eluded me, I felt proud of my accomplished feat. Al would be proud of me, too. I didn't know why it was so important to me, but I'd find a way to tell him.

My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath: half of it taken from the rush of adrenaline coursing through me, and the other half stolen by Ivy's lips. A smile was plastered upon my features, a sense of self-worth—something I had previously believed to have faded away completely—roused within me.

"Ra-Rachel…" Ivy choke on the utterance of my name, rage swirling within the pupils that had engulfed her irises. It didn't take long for the satisfied grin to melt from my lips when I saw the hostile expression that had crept its way into her gaze. One of her hands was pressed to her heart; the beat pounding in my ears due to our wrongful connection. Her pulse was alive against my eardrums, and it created an eerie tattoo as the vampire hoisted herself up off of the ground, beginning a slow saunter towards me.

I didn't say anything. I didn't have anything to say.

"Come. Here." Her voice was disgustingly harsh, and my head fell to the side, exposing my neck once again and offering complete submission. I had angered her, and despite the fact that it had been unintentional, I was to be punished for it.

As soon as she was in proximity, I tensed, awaiting the blow. Ivy grabbed the nape of my neck and threw my pliant body to the floor. Before I could say a word, her naked form was on top of mine; my breasts pressed painfully against the cold tile as the vampire's entire weight crushed my frail figure. Her nails dug into my biceps, anger pouring from her every pore—radiating from her very flesh and seeping into mine. I felt her muscles rippling with power above me, the simple knowledge that with a single flick of her wrists Ivy could sever my spinal column digging deep into my core and eliciting an intense fear I didn't even know I could experience.

"What did I say about _magic_?" She spat the words through clenched teeth, and I cringed. "Hmm, witch? What. Were. My. Words?"

I didn't speak, fear of pain and isolation clogging my throat.

"Jesus Christ, I should lock you up and make certain you never again see the light of day." Ivy's words stung me deeply, not because of the menacing note to her tone or the verity of her words, but because of the fact that I had done something to make her angry. She was discontented, and I was to blame. "Do you know how _lucky_ you are, dear heart? Do you? Obviously not, since you seem to use every single opportunity you have to humiliate me. I could have kept you chained up, fed you only when generosity was in the air. I could have avoided this chaotic type of lifestyle!"

"I d-didn't m-m-mean to." I managed to choke out the words, but she ignored them.

Ivy inhaled deeply, her lips dangerously close to my throbbing jugular. The vampire suddenly seemed at loss for words, her nails trailing down my hip and over the cheeks of my ass prior to rising the length of my spine to rest against the nape of my neck. I could literally feel the fear coursing throughout my entire figure, wreaking havoc within my internal organs as it passed. My heart did a little flip as a wave of pleasure swam from the location of Ivy's fingers to my feet, making my toes curl.

"Stop it," she whispered, never ceasing the exploration of my body with the tips of her fingers. She shuddered when I held my breath long enough to feel the blood throbbing against my ear drums; the beat of my heart having a noticeable effect upon the instincts that she tried desperately to keep leashed while attempting to stay focused.

"S—" my breath caught in my throat when her fingers dipped low to feel the pooling wetness between my thighs. "Sorry."

"Mmm." She wasn't paying attention. My eyes squeezed shut, breath coming out in a rush as she delved her index into my feminine passage, her intent fully upon making me crumble at her feet. And I did. Her voice was faded, a single component of everything swirling teasingly around my senses at that moment. Pheromones danced upon my naked flesh, accompanied by her fingers and lips. The appendage buried deep within me rapidly situated the location that, with the right series of actions, could send me to my knees. Her hot breath upon one of my many scars made my every muscle tense as she moaned into my ear, "I love you."

_I love you too, Ivy._ I had the words formulated within my mind, awaiting further authorization to be uttered concretely to the vampire atop me. But before I could even think of wording my thoughts aloud, a harsh pain ripped its way from my shoulder to every vein present in my body.

Ivy pulled her fangs out of me for a fraction of a second before sinking them once again, deeper, into the muscle located between my neck and shoulder. I tried to scream, but all that emerged was a muffled moan of wrongful pleasure. I'd no idea exactly what was going on, but the vampire wasn't taking her fill today the way she usually did. Her lips were much more aggressive than I was used to—which I suppose, in a way, was positive. My awareness spiked, the roughness of her hands digging into my exposed skin combined with the violent way her teeth ripped at my flesh somehow sliced through the pleasure the neurotoxins were creating. I'd never been one for recreational pain, and Ivy's actions were rousing the fighting instincts within me; urging my muscles to rise in power and adrenaline to be released, standing guard at my disposal so that I could utilize it whenever I desired.

The vampire pulled her teeth out of me, muttered an incoherency along the lines of, "fu-u-uck Rachel," slipped two additional fingers into my sheath while bringing my arms above my head, and proceeded to plunge her fangs into the tissue of my inner bicep. I groaned, the searing pleasure of her teeth clashing with the painful way her fingers curled around my thigh.

My stomach churned when I felt the blood leak leisurely from the two open wounds Ivy hadn't bothered to mend. Her lips and tongue fastened upon the third lesion she had torn open—on the fleshy tissue of my inner bicep— created disgusting slurping noises as she struggled to ingest the most of my life essence as possible. I felt my head lighten in weight; my breathing became shallow, as if my lungs had suddenly diminished in size. I tried to stop her, give her even the smallest of indications that I was becoming weak and that she was the cause. However, the only sound my larynx was able to emit was a small whimper of pleasure. Ivy's fingers pumped ruthlessly within me, and my eyes squeezed shut as I tried to shut out every single nerve of my body that was screaming for more. As soon as I focused on the precise components of my surroundings, I became aware of the aching sensations Ivy's actions had upon me. I saw through the mindless illusion of pleasure the neurotoxins threw at me; but even with this knowledge, I did not have enough power to defend my body or mind from the vampire's attacks.

_Relax. Give yourself to me._

The only reason the words clearly resonated within my mind in the form of Ivy's voice and not a flitting thought of my own was due to my mind-numbing attempt to regain control of myself. It was difficult—nearly impossible. My heart thundered against my chest cavity, the sound of its pulse thrumming in perfect synchronization with Ivy's: loud enough to be heard without difficulty and pounding strong enough to be felt with ease against my rib cage. My body became numb, the sensations Ivy was eliciting from my quivering figure having a significant effect upon my ability to remain conscious; let alone focused. The last thought swimming through my mind before blackness consumed me was an utter confusion in regard to my life; the fact that I was alive. _Why am I here?_

_Everyone was there. My mother, Jenks and Matalina, Ceri and Quen, Keasley, David, Marshal…even Trent and the demons Algaliarept and Minas were present, laughing with each other; speaking about something I couldn't quite identify. Jonathan stood behind his almighty God, hands on the elf's shoulders in sign of protection. Kisten was sitting beside me, his strong arm around my waist to hold me up as I gazed in awe at the every individual who was seated at our kitchen table. My eyes wandered from Takata, to Nick, to Edden and Glenn having a playful "man fight" on the end of the table, the Capitan holding his son in a headlock…it was nice to see them finally getting along—the relaxing mood of the people conversing and laughing amongst each other seeming to send them into a real father/son relationship. Ford was against the wall, his hand stretched out so that he could softly stroke Bis' tail; the gargoyle being perched upside down on one of the rafters, likely scared due to all the noise. I was surprised to see Brett sitting between David and Nick, his smile shining and his laughter standing out. Peter joined their conversation—the handsome vampire brightening the room. Further away, Francis was seated with Denon; the two speaking seriously about something I couldn't hear. Probably work. I rolled my eyes._

_ "Everyone's here," Kisten whispered into my ear. "They all came for you."_

_ I turned towards him, his blue eyes. Those eyes that would gaze into my own, once upon a time, irises holding so much emotion and adoration I was afraid I'd burst. They were filled with that same amount of affection right now. It was too much to handle. I tried to speak, to tell him that it was all a lie, but no sound emerged from my parted lips._

_ "Shh." His arms came to wrap around my shoulders, holding me tight. "Don't worry about anything. We came to you so that you didn't have to fret, love. Just know that we'll all always be here. For you. Forever."_

_ Liar. Matalina was dead. Why was it that I could hear her sweet, melodious voice crooning a love song to her beloved husband? Minas was dead: ripped to pieces by Newt, and yet concocting silly faces to make Trenton Kalamack laugh. Francis was dead; Brett was dead; Peter was dead—I knew, I'd killed him myself. And Kisten, I thought as I gazed into those beautiful sapphire irises, he was gone. I distinctly remembered seeing those eyes memorize my face as he convulsed one last time, whispering those words of love before dying in my arms. So why could I feel his strong embrace holding me together right now?_

_ "Because I'm here, Rachel," his voice danced around me. "I love you."_

_ Liar._

_ "We all love you. That's why we're here."_

_ Liar…_

_ Skimmer wasn't here. Erica wasn't here. Mr. Randal and his undead spouse weren't here. Piscary wasn't here. Neither was Rynn Cormel. Every direct connection to Ivy Tamwood wasn't present in the room. _

_ "Shh, Rachel. Relax. Take it easy—everything's going to be fine."_

_ My head spun, the merry conversations occurring in the room meshing together to create a swirling, hectic mess. Why was Nick here? I hated him. Marshal…well, he hated me. Al and I seemed to have a strange connection these days, so I didn't have anything negative to say about him. Denon: we hated each other. Don't even think of getting me started about Jonathan…_

_ "Calm down, love." Kisten's tone sliced through everything swimming in my mind. His biceps tightened around me, and I let myself go limp in his arms. "That's better. Now, just take deep breaths and be happy. All of this is for you; just for you. So sit back and enjoy the party. Okay?"_

_ My jaw tightened. I couldn't breathe._

_ I tried to squirm out of Kisten's loving embrace, but he only held me tighter. He kissed me forehead, the way he used to, with that same beautiful smile upon his lips when they left my forehead as I remembered. His voice was soothing, strong arms rocking my body as he tried to soothe me. "Shh."_

_ LIAR!_

_ It was all a lie. A fighting instinct roused within me, and I shoved my elbow into his gut, pleading with my every fiber to be let go. The conversations around the room didn't dissipate in the slightest—if anything they grew louder, the people laughing with emphasized glee. They threw their heads back, emitting a throaty chuckle of content and resumed their discussions while I squirmed in my dead lover's hold. I felt Kisten's fingers dig into my sides, his arms tightening around me to the point where I couldn't inhale._

_ I opened my mouth to tell him how he was hurting me, but no sound came out. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak, I couldn't scream. Oh, how desperately did I want to fill my lungs to maximum capacity and scream…_

"Rachel!" Ivy yelled, slapping me across the face.

My eyes shot open, and I took in a thankful rush of air, only to have the oxygen clog in my airway. I sat up and coughed, alarmed when my hand came away stained with a crimson liquid. I heard Ivy swear, and push me back down onto my back with a soft shove. I was surprised when my back fell against soft sheets instead of a hard, cold tile. I wiped my bloody lips with the back of my hand, smearing the staining color on the sheets beneath me and taking in a slow, deep breath.

"Goddammit, dear heart." Ivy cursed softly. "You stopped breathing."

"He was holding me too tight," I answered in a whisper, still unable to fully comprehend what had just happened. "I couldn't make him let me go."

"I took too much." She confessed, ignoring what I'd said. "I…couldn't stop myself—couldn't help it. It was almost surreal. You tasted so _fucking good _I couldn't think clearly. I'm not going to lie; I think it was the leyline. I swear to God I could feel it humming through you. I could taste it in your blood. And before I sunk my teeth into the delicious flesh of yours, I could smell it all over you. Then, as soon as I got that first taste of you—of _it_ in you—it was like nothing mattered anymore but the fact that I get the most of it in me as I could. Like I only had a certain amount of time before it would stop tasting so good…"

She trailed off, eyes darting to various locations of the room—always avoiding my gaze, as if I could or _would_ hold this against her. I focused on my breathing: how it had to be calculatedly slow and tempered. My hand came up to clutch at my neck protectively, and I was astonished to find a bandage wrapped around the hollow of my throat. I allowed my fingers to trail down and follow the bandage, finding that every wound Ivy had torn open was covered in a thick gauze. The bleeding seemed to have stopped, but I was still sore. And light-headed.

"Sorry," Ivy muttered darkly. I looked up at her with eyes wide: the vampire had never apologized to me like this before. Her gaze was filled with emotion as she looked up at me and stated, "You almost died."

"I saw Kisten," I told her.

She stood as if I hadn't spoken. "I got you dressed while you were unconscious. We're still going to the party, no reason not to. It isn't as if people won't expect you to have scars, right?" Ivy chuckled throatily at her own pathetic excuse for a joke. "Come on, get up. We're already almost a half-hour late. And Rachel, I'd like this little outburst of mine to remain between you and me, okay? Not because of the fact that I'm generally able to keep myself under control, but because I'm not sure if what we experienced was…normal."

"Okay," I said, drone-like. "I'll behave."

"Good girl." Ivy stroked my cheek. "What was it you were saying about a—kitten, was it?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

The vampire simply shrugged and grabbed my triceps, hoisting me up despite my groan of discomfort. I was astonished to find that I was already wearing an elegant strapless dress, black and silky. It hugged me comfortably at the waist, accentuating the curve of my hips and waist, and widened out at my thighs before stopping at my knees in an elegant mass of frills. Ivy was still nude.

"Wait for me at the door, I'll be out in a minute," she instructed.

I didn't say anything, but stood and walked out of the room. One foot after the other. I needed to stay focused, for some reason, on every single one of the little things that ran my life. Breathing. Walking. Blinking. I arrived at the front door, and sat down cross-legged on the carpet at the entrance, waiting for Ivy. I wasn't going to try and figure out what my unconscious dream had meant—all I needed was the vampire down the hall.

**A/N:** So I just wanted to point out that I know I left Pierce out in the whole "reunion" dream. And know that I did it on purpose. I don't like Pierce, he irritates me beyond words. And I know that Rachel does like him. So instead of going through the torturous procedure of seeing Pierce through Rachel's eyes, I decided to delete him. I doubt I'll even mention the existence of Pierce in this series. Because, hey…this is fanfiction—anything can happen.


	8. Rynn Cormel

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters. They belong to KH.

I fiddled childishly with the bandages wrapped around my neck, flinching when my fingers dipped into sensitive flesh. The white healing cloth was wrapped twice around my neck, under my armpit, circling my shoulder, and descending the length of my arm just before my elbow as to permit mobility. With the tips of my fingers and every jerk of my body reacting painfully to Ivy's violent lovemaking, I managed to count four bite marks. One located in the fleshy tissue behind my right shoulder, the other in the area between my shoulder and neck of the same side, a third throbbing deep within the muscle of my inner bicep, and a final wound situated in the hollow of my throat. _If this last wound didn't stay wrapped tight_, Ivy had yelled at me from the bedroom, _I would have trouble breathing._

My hand pressed itself to the base of my throat and I took in a deep breath. Chances were, the vampire had pierced my airway in her haze of raging bloodlust; effectively filling my lungs with my own blood and ceasing every one of my breathing capacities for a few seconds, if not minutes. I had nearly drowned in my own bodily fluids. Peachy.

"Rachel."

As soon as I heard my name called from the bedroom across the hall, my head snapped in its direction and my back straightened. From a third person's perspective, it was likely I had reacted the way a dog does when a sack of familiar food is shaken; though I didn't go running towards temptation.

"Yes, Ivy?" The simple way I called the vampire's name sounded desperate, needy; I cursed myself for it.

"Nothing happened. You're alright and so am I." I snickered while she lectured me at the mention of her own well-being. "It was a one-time slip-up; it isn't going to be happening again. So get the fuck over it and stop thinking about it as if it were the end of the world."

I cringed at the acid dripping from her tone, directed towards the path of my thoughts. Since Ivy had bound me, our thoughts had begun to mingle in with one another's until it was difficult for me to distinguish my own internal dialogue to her occasional butt-ins. Not only, now, did I have to watch what I said and what my specific actions would entail, but the way I _thought_ was closely monitored by the antagonistic vampire that plagued my existence.

I shifted my position—cross-legged on the carpet before the door—to wrap my shaking arms around my legs, bringing my chin to rest against my knees. I rocked my body back and forth with a gentle ease, trying to dissipate the growing feeling of discomfort spreading within me. Insects and rodents gnawed at my insides for no reason; my thoughts swirled with so many potential escape routes that had once been so fresh within my mind. Now, they were nothing but dull memories of a past hope. Nothing made sense anymore. I was well aware of the fact that my abilities as a witch hadn't been affected negatively by the binding Ivy had forcefully placed upon us, so why was I cringing in a corner away from the Big Bad Vampire when I could easily defend myself?

"Because you love me."

I turned to see the gorgeous vampire standing at the end of the hallway, a smile plastered upon her delicate features. One of her hands was on her hip, the other held high in the air as she took an over-enthusiastic pose. "What do you think?"

"It's nice," I responded immediately and without hesitation. "I like it."

After answering, I looked her up and down to _really_ see what she was wearing. It was much more elegant than what I had on. What she was wearing was black as well, but the material on hers was much silkier; shining wherever light dared touch it. The neckline dipped down to her navel, revealing the luscious curve of her breasts and the delicious texture of her abdominals. In five places along the cleavage of her dress were strings holding the material together as to not allow any more skin to be shown unintentionally. It hugged her waist lightly, descending to her feet in the simplest of manners. The dress was slit on both sides, reaching from her feet to the middle of her thighs, in a way that only a Tamwood could pull off without appearing even the slightest bit whorish. She wore white heels, with strings lacing up her ankle and accentuating the creamy shade of her legs—only visible due to the intentional cut in her dress.

Once again, Ivy had chosen something to wear that made my attire appear drastically less elegant than her own. My frilly cocktail dress was garbage compared to the sophisticated way the vampire wore hers. It didn't exactly bother me the way she always out-dressed me, but the way she flaunted the fact that she could, did. I'd always take garments from her closet, and the clothes allotted to me were always less fashionable.

"I'm glad you do," she said with a knowing smile. Ivy stopped, placing her hands on each hip and looking at me with mocking scorn. "Rachel, what are you doing on the floor?"

"Waiting for you to come back," I told her earnestly, even though it made me look like a dependant puppy.

She smiled, glad I didn't hesitate the way I usually would when posed a question directly connected to my subordinate state. I tried hard not to let the anger bubble up within me at the fact that she'd asked that specific enquiry to see how I would react. "Well, here I am. Now come on, get up—we're going to be late."

I grabbed her offered hand, hoisting myself up. _We're already late._

"Now, dear heart, stop being so pessimistic. If worst really comes to worst, then we'll be _fashionably_ late. Rynn will be able to understand that there is a perfectly valid reason behind our tardiness." She gave me an accusing glare, and my head fell to the side. I didn't want to make her any more disappointed than she already was, and the only reason to avoid such a hostile reaction in Ivy was to offer complete and utter submission.

She pulled me up towards her and planted a gentle kiss on my forehead, whispering words of adoration into my ear when she pulled away. Surprisingly, then, I hugged her. I didn't realize until my arms were holding her tightly within their embrace, my biceps squeezing hers with every ounce of emotion that swirled within me. Anger. Love. Despair. Fear: not only _of_ her, but of losing her.

"Rachel…" Ivy's hands were suddenly on my shoulders, pushing me away with a strength generally utilized for punishment. "You'll wrinkle my dress."

"I'm sorry." Those two words meant nothing to me anymore; I'd been using them so often, their implication had altered from apologetic to a simple desire not to be physically or mentally punished for whatever action had been done. "I didn't mean to."

"Go get on the bike." Ivy's words were devoid of emotion. "I'll lock up behind you."

I slipped my single pair of black dress shoes on without a word and stepped outside to stand beside her bike, parked next to my car—was I even allowed to call it _my_ car anymore? Not because of the fact that I hadn't driven it in years, but because Ivy had once specifically claimed that no person, place, or thing would ever belong to me.

I didn't even hear the sound of Ivy's keys jingling in the lock of the church; she was suddenly behind me, hand on my shoulder, and soft breath against my cheek. "Do you have your helmet?"

Damn it all back to the Turn if Ivy Tamwood didn't make every aspect of life appear sexual in one way or another. The vampire might as well have been asking me if I wanted her to give me a lap dance for all my body cared. I swallowed and shook my head, trying to focus on the question asked and not the way her skin touched mine in the most delicious of ways.

"For the love of blood, Rachel," Ivy sighed and shoved her own helmet into my arms. "You need to start getting organized or it's going to come back to bite you in the ass."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, staring at the helmet.

"Get on the bike." She gave me another harsh order without acknowledging the hollow apology I had managed to spit out. The hand at my shoulder begun kneading the tender muscle there, and my lids fluttered shut at the soothing sensation of her strong hands against the naked, pale flesh of my shoulder. "And put that helmet on—I don't know what I'd do if, God forbid, something ever happened to you."

My eyes shot open as Ivy gave me a brusque nudge towards her motorcycle. I shovedthe useless piece of thick plastic over my frizzy curls with clenched teeth. Whatever happened didn't exactly matter in the end, though, did it? I was already dead.

"She's perfectly fine," Ivy assured Beth, another living vampire we'd met at the party. "Just a little slow on the healing, if you know what I mean. Rachel's never been one for prolonged sex sessions—it isn't her fault, she just has difficulties handling the strain it puts on her endurance. But everything always turns out fine."

Ivy patted my bandaged shoulder before squeezing it, never breaking eye-contact with Beth. The pain shot throughout my entire figure, throbbing in my temples and churning my stomach. _Shut-up. Don't move._ Ivy's commands were harsh and menacing within my mind, and I stayed still as a statue as the bitch deemed it necessary to show her newfound friend just how "fine" I really was by poking around under my bandages and sending jolts of electric agony sizzling through me. I was glad when she decided not to venture near the bite mark nestled happily in the hollow of my throat—but it was likely the only reason she didn't poke at it was because she didn't want me to make a scene if I ever couldn't hold the pants of pain back any longer. Plus, if I stopped breathing in the midst of the party, it would be difficult for Ivy to pin the _entire_ blame on her disobedient shadow.

"Healthy as a horse." Beth agreed with a smile in my direction.

No one in the room at the exception of Ivy and myself were aware of the fact that Ivy had let me keep a part of my humanity—that I couldn't refuse her but was still capable of making my own mental decisions and that Ivy had intentionally made it so. I didn't know why the vampire had persisted on me keeping my mouth shut, but there was likely a good reason; otherwise she wouldn't have gone to such extents to keep it a secret.

Soft music played in the background, and I tried to focus on it instead of the insults and orders throbbing within my mind. _You are not to speak this evening. Stay beside me unless I tell you otherwise. Quiet. Stand up straight. Smile when you're required to—and for God's sake laugh when someone says something that's supposed to be funny._

"Tamwood!"

Here we go again. I turned to face the direction of the originating location of a male voice, surprised to find a fine-looking young man. He had messy red hair, a shade darker than mine, and was wearing a dirty white T-Shirt and a pair of jeans—as opposed to the rest of the party members, elegantly dressed in tuxes and dresses. Freckles spotted his youthful visage, and I shouldn't have been surprised to see small, sharpened fangs where his canines were supposed to be. But for some reason, I was taken aback by the fact that he was a living vampire. I didn't know this man; why should I care? He had wide, green eyes, the color mine used to be—eyes that were locked on my own, almost drawing me nearer with their simple allure. He wasn't slim, but wasn't what someone would call over-weight either. And out of the entire individuals present at the party, he was the one who stood out the most, and not because of the choice of his attire.

_Rachel. Stop ogling him or I'll tear his throat out._

I broke eye contact, staring at the floor and bearing the bandaged side of my neck as Ivy appeared behind me. "I don't believe I've ever seen you at any of the social gatherings in Cincinnati before." Ivy spoke to him, her tone sarcastic. "You are?"

"Kyle." He held his hand out to me, and Ivy grabbed it. I saw the flesh of the back of his hand wrinkle together as she squeezed it in a firm shake. His eyes narrowed slightly, but other than that, he showed no sign of pain. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

_Again?_

I heard Ivy growl as she realized he had spoken directly to me. He never glanced at the vampire beside me, even as she wrapped an arm possessively around my waist. I wasn't used to having strangers speak to me, even less doing so while ignoring Ivy. God, she was going to be pissed. I didn't answer him, in fear of Ivy's uncontrollable and unpredictable wrath—knowing the length of her temper, she wouldn't hesitate to punish me in public as long as it wouldn't affect her image; a small slap on the back of the head or a firm grab of the bicep wouldn't diminish the way the other vampires thought of her. On the contrary, it might even positively affect her reputation.

"My apologies, Ms. Morgan." He once again spoke to me, and I was astonished by his respectful and formal tone. "For but a moment I had forgotten the clashing state in which you must be in. The mechanics of such a connection between a vampire and their shadow still eludes me. To be completely honest," for the first time since calling her name, he turned to Ivy, "I don't care much for such bondages. Especially if either participant is unwilling."

"Well…" Ivy said defensively, tightening her hold on my hip, "it's one thing to have opinions, it's another entirely to judge people based on those…opinions. Rachel is in perfect condition."

"I can see that." Kyle smiled, showing his fangs, aware of the fact that Ivy hadn't had a retort. In my presence, this was the first time someone had questioned her methods of making me hers. "Ivy, would you mind if I borrowed your friend for a few moments? Don't fret, she'll be back whole."

He winked at her, and Ivy responded with a hostile snarl.

"Ivy!" A familiar voice scolded her. "What seems to have come over you?"

I turned to see Rynn Cormel, his black hair slicked back upon his scalp as one would see in a Dracula movie. At least he wasn't wearing a black cape. He was the only one in the room wearing a white suit—completely that one color at the exception of the red handkerchief in his pocket, and a red tie disappearing in the V of his jacket. The dark crimson contrast gave the eerie impression of a slit throat leaking blood; dripping, staining the perfect white of his attire.

"Nothing, Rynn," Ivy responded politely, with a forced smile. She released me and swept her past master up in a bear hug. "It's so great to see you again. How long has it been? Almost a year, right? God, I can't believe neither of us has had time in our busy schedules to meet up recently. You've met Rachel since we…"

"Yes. I have. Once." Like nearly every single other vampire present in the room, Rynn didn't even glance at me when I was the topic of the conversation. "I take it you were getting acquainted with Kyle. As I can see, things aren't going as fine as they should. Jealous, Ivy?"

Cormel grinned, making Ivy's brows furrow in confusion. "Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

The undead vampire placed a large hand on Kyle's shoulder, making the younger, living vamp beam with pride. "Kyle is my newest scion. As of the beginning of this week, in fact. I'm surprised your shadow hasn't shown any sign of recognition towards him—I hear they were both in the same classes before your pet joined the I.S."

_Again… _I repeated the sentence fragment in my mind once more, the word now making complete sense. I did remember him.

"Yes, I was just asking Ivy if she minded Ms. Morgan and I having a private conversation. Perhaps we can leave you two to catch up while we do the same?" Kyle spoke to his master, smiling innocently when he glanced at Ivy for approval. It might have been due to the connection I shared with the possessive and domineering living vampire, but a strange instinct roused within me at the sight of Kyle's smug performance. I didn't mind in the least—it was a good thing that there was finally someone out there willing to participate in a battle of the wits with Ms. Perfect Tamwood—but it was easy to see just how much Ivy loathed him already.

"We won't be long, dear heart." She assured me, slipping her arms around my waist and bringing her lips to mine in a hungry kiss before all these spectators. I had the distinct impression, however, that this little act was meant for Kyle more than any of the other gaping audience members. One of her hands slid down to my ass, and she lightly grazed her nails over the thin material of my dress; without thought, my hands circled her neck and I stood up on my toes to better reach the luscious, pulsing tissue of her lips. She pulled away before the trance I'd been put in would amount to anything more serious, and allowed Cormel to slip an arm around her slender waist while they walked away to greet the other guests. I knew she didn't want to leave me alone, least of all with Kyle, and that if Rynn himself wouldn't have been awaiting her presence beside him, she would have left the party with me to bring us into the safety and privacy of our church. _Behave, Rachel._

Though she was no longer in proximity, she made it apparent that she would be tracking each of my thoughts, words, and actions. Without strain, it was easy for her to become aware of the smallest error I made—when she was making an effort to listen in, it would almost be as if she'd be watching a movie from my perspective; as if she could see through my eyes. I could do the same, but not only did I refrain so because the vampire prohibited me from delving into the confines of her mind, but because I would never willingly desire to strengthen the bond we already had by merging my mind completely with hers. Ivy expected me to behave, and the only reason I would obey her would be because within those two words directly uttered through our telepathic connection, I could easily detect the promise of negative reinforcement to help me learn the mechanics of "time and place."

I felt strong arms circle my shoulders and help me to the nearest sofa, holding me so gently they could easily be compared to a parental figure. My chest was still heaving from Ivy's unexpected attack upon my inescapable desire for her body pressed against mine. I could still taste the sweet tang of her delicious flavour on the tip of my tongue, and I was certain that I could amplify its taste by running my tongue over my already swollen lips. Her delicate aroma still enveloped me, and images begun to form in my mind. Images of Ivy and I: naked, sweaty, and writhing…

"Ms. Morgan, calm down. You're hyperventilating." Large hands grasped my shoulders and shook me gently, making certain to watch out for the wounds that were crying out for medical attention. "Open your eyes."

I hadn't even realized that my eyes had been closed, but I did as I was told.

Kyle was kneeling beside me, his emerald eyes piercing and alive. The moving figures in the background were nothing but faint blurs, their presence insignificant compared to the man facing me right now. Kyle and I had indeed been in the same classes back in college; we had been good friends. I'd let him cheat off of me a couple of times, and in return he'd give me the delicious meat subs his mom would make for him every day.

"Kyle…" I whispered his name, my fingers rising to touch his cheek as if to check the authenticity of his existence. "It's really you, isn't it?"


End file.
